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DEMBA, 

THE FUGITIVE SLAVE; 

A 

WEST-INDIAN TALE. 



BY W. MAC KAY. 

It 



" Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi, 
Et quorum pars magna fui." 

Virg. ^Eneid. Lib. II. 

" 1 have been 
A wanderer in that sin-sick clime,- 
And many a foul and damning scene 
Have witnessed." 

Proem, to Demba. 



LONDON : 
D. BOGUE, FLEET STREET. 

WORCESTER: 

T. STRATFORD, PUBLIC LIBRARY, THE CROSS. 



i p ^ ^ . 






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4<1 S3 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Preface. iii 

Preliminary Invocation 1 

Proemium 6 

Demba— Part I 10 

Notes to ditto 34 

Part II 38 

Notes to ditto 70 

Part III 75 

Notes to ditto 109 

Part IV 117 

Notes to ditto 154 



PREFACE. 



The necessity for a Preface to this 
little volume is almost superseded by 
the ' Preliminary Invocation, ' and the 
' Proemium ' : one or two observations, 
therefore, relative to the circumstances 
under which it was written, is all that 
will be hazarded on this occasion, in 
compliance with established form. 

About ten years ago, the Author re- 
turned to this country from the West 
Indies, and the following Poem was in 
substance composed shortly after : various 
causes, however, operating on his mind, 
prompted him, about three years subse- 



IV 



quent to that period, to consign all his 
manuscripts to the flames; nor would 
he, in all probability, ever again have 

" Bowed suppliant at the Muses' shrine," 

had not his brother, (to whom the 
MSS. had been lent,) on the occasion 
of a late visit, 

" Relumed his long-extinguished torch" 

by kind encouragement, and an unex- 
pected communication, that he had then 
by him several large extracts, taken during 
the time the Poem was in his possession. 
From this 'wreck of its former self 
"Demba" has been reconstructed. — The 
extracts having been mainly taken from 
what now constitutes its first and second 
Parts, that portion of the work embodies 
a considerable quantity of the old materiel ; 
the remaining Parts are almost entirely 
new : — and this statement, with which it 
would otherwise have been unnecessary 



to trouble the reader, is set forth as an 
apology for any discrepancy (consequent 
upon lapse of time) that may be ob- 
servable between the earlier and the 
more recent compositions. 

With regard to his choice of 'theme/ 
it is merely needful to observe, — that, 
having resided some years in one of our 
West Indian colonies, and, consequently, 
had an opportunity of 'witnessing for 
himself the degraded condition of the 
Negro, — the 'votary of the Muse' would 
naturally feel his attention directed to 
the subject, and any talent he might 
possess, as it were intuitively, enlisted 
in his cause : over and above which, the 
'horrors of Slavery' have already occu- 
pied — and, by the mercy of God, do still 
occupy — so large a share of the public 
attention, that the bare mention of the 
word is sufficient to awaken feelings of 



VI 



the deepest interest and commiseration in 
every British breast. — On this point, the 
Author flatters himself he has no ground 
for apprehension : — on the contrary, that 
he has just cause for hope. — He therefore 
commits his Book into the hands of an 
enlightened Public, whose decision alone 
must fix its fate, — and who, sooner or 
later, never fail to judge correctly. 



PRELIMINARY INVOCATION. 



i. 



Muse ! — ere I tempt thy spells, or plunge again 

A rash adventurer in that magic sea, 
Whose wave ethereal through my phrensied brain 
Erstwhile so oft hath trill' d, — my spirit fain 
Awhile would ponder, — and, ere yet it be 
Engulfed, one moment's parley hold with thee. 



My youth was thine, — my prime, my earliest days ;- 

Soon as young Reason's torch lit up my soul, 
The artless tribute of my boyish lays 
Was offered up spontaneous to thy praise ; 

Nor thought was mine but own'd thy just control,- 
Each action's object, my existence' goal. 



Thou wert my all ; — and memory still reveals 

In tokens those alone can truly know 
Along whose veins the Circean virus steals, 

B 



Our flights ecstatic through the gaudy fields 
Of Fancy, freshened by the laughing glow 
Of Hope, — not yet by rugged Time laid low. 



Yet did I leave thee, — and have wandered far ; — 
Years have roll'd by since last my feverish hand 
Dash'd from the rival chords harmonious war : — 
Disfigured, dead, those lyric trophies are, 

Which round my brows the magic of thy wand 
Once bade in thick profusion glittering stand. 



5. 



Did I not love thee ? — let the circling flame 

Remembrance kindles be my best reply : — 
Didst thou reject my incense ? — let the same 
Impassion' d test thy kindly notice claim ; — 
No icy coldness from thy radiant eye, 
No glance repulsive bade thy votary fly. 



6. 



Firm to the last, our mystic union still 

More firmly held as we approached its close ; 
Bound by a spell which habit strengthened, till 
The last lorn" moment when my stubborn will 
Bow'd to the stroke, and 6 Sense of duty r ' rose 
Imperious to thy throne : — my heart's wild throes 



3 

7. 



Were all for thee. — As to the slimy rock 

Some drowning wretch with desperate struggle clings, 
His grip' more fierce, as each succeeding shock 
Rolls o'er his head the mighty floods that mock 
His vain attempts, — till one, o'erwhelming, flings 
His batter'd corse amidst the viewless things 



That tenant Ocean ; — so, illustrious Maid ! 

Till power Supernal tore me from thy fane, 
My soul held on : — yet do I not upbraid 
The ' still small voice ' which, as in mercy, bade 
Our union cease, till, schooled by Him, again 
His hand should join us in Religion's train. 



Rather I do rejoice ; — and thou too, Muse, 
If to my verse thy spells I yet may woo, 
Shalt with me joy ; — His Spirit shall infuse 
A brighter hope, and point to loftier views, 

Where more than Fancy, — Faith, — Fruition too, 
In richest glories shed their fadeless hue. 



10. 



Come then, divine inspirer ! — once again 
My heart is open, and I call on thee ; 



4 



Resume as erst thy throne, — begin thy reign, — 
Enthral my spirit in thy silken chain ; — 

Come ! — ('tis in Freedom's cause), — nor let me be 
Hence from thy hallowed influence ever free. 



11. 



Now, wave thy wand, enchantress ! — lo ! a theme 
Of stirring import, — such as needs must wring 
With sympathetic anguish all who deem 
Man's sacred birthright other than a dream — 
Or phantasy of Folly, prompts to sing, 
And wake to loudest notes each sleeping string. 



12. 



That theme— the Slave— Come then, mysterious Queen, 
In all thy spell-rife panoply descend ; — 
Breathe on my soul : — what thou to me hast been, 

Still be, — yea, tenfold let thy glorious sheen 
Enwrap thy votary, — and, till life shall end, 
My every impulse with thine essence blend. — 



PROEMIUM. 



l. 



Thank God ! — that blot on Britain's fame 

No more exists ; — the Slave is free ; 
His buoyant spirit quaffs the flame, 

The hallowed flame of liberty. 
All hail, my country ! — for this boon 

On Afric's injured sons conferred, 
Bards of all climes shall ever tune 

To thee their harps ; — the glorious word 
From thy broad segis ne'er shall cease 
To hush the nations into peace. 
Long as the thread of Life be spun, — 
Long as the sand of Time shall run, — 

So long, (the favor'd child of Heaven,) 
Angelic hosts thy rights shall guard, 
And cherish as thy just reward, 

That blessing thou to them hast given. 



Coarse it may seem, the tale of rage 
Depicted on the coming page ; 



Barbaric deeds, and heightened too 

By flighty Fiction's tinct'ring hue ; — 
But let our theme be rightly viewed, 
And it shall prove, however rude, 
Or with the ' poet's art ' imbued, 

In substance not more coarse than true. 

Dire were the wrongs the tyrant lords 
Of yonder Ind's luxuriant soil 

Inflicted on the prostrate hordes 

That fed their avarice : — ceaseless toil, 
Inhuman tortures, curs'd despoil 

Of every dear domestic tie, 

Made up the sum of Slavery. 



3. 



Pictures of horror, — such as could 
Not fail the unaccustomed blood 
To freeze, and harrow up the soul, 
In sympathy for Negro's dole, 
I too have seen, — for I have been 

A wanderer in that sin-sick clime ; 
And many a foul and damning scene, 

Exemplar of the by-gone time, 
Have witnessed, — shall I blushing own 
Have borne a part in, where the groan 
Half-stifled, as in stubborn pride, 
From tortured males, was answered wide 
And far by woman's frantic cry, — 
Her long wild shriek of agony. 



Enough ; — our story best may tell 

What wrongs the suffering slave endured ; 
Nor say, 'tis idle now to dwell 

On ills Britannia's hand hath cured : — 
The plague still works ; — grim Slavery still 
Amidst his victims stalks at will. 
True, — whereso'er her sceptered arm 

Extends, the monster's horrid form 
No longer flings its baneful charm 

But, shrouded in the deathful storm 
Of human lusts, o'er other lands 
He scatters still his hellish bands, — 
Lands too, alas ! where loud and long 
The people raise the phrenzied song 
Of * ' Liberty ! ' — and there are those 
At home, abroad, who, covert foes 
To Freedom as to Virtue's reign, 
For sordid schemes of place or gain 

Would fain the sacred cause betray ; — 
The cause of Mercy, Justice, — all 
That man holds dear, or man should call 

Upon his fellow-man to pay. 

5. 

Genius of freedom ! — hallowed power, 
Whose influence rare so long hath bless'd 

* Need we be more particular? — I guess not. 



Our island-home, — in happy hour 

Blast all their schemes ; — nor fondly rest 

A pilgrim sole in Albion's bower ; — 

On every land thy blessings shower, — 
Of all the earth be thou the guest : — 

Guest ! guardian-angel, constant friend ; 
And, chief, on Afric's hapless race 

Oh ! let thy quickening spells descend, 

Revive, renew, — in concert blend 

Her madden'd tribes, and from its base 

The throne of Pagan rapine hurl ; 

Let Peace her banner wide unfurl, 

And holy Truth ; — let Knowledge through 
Her arid clime its softening balm 
Diffuse, mellifluous, — and the calm 

Clear sunshine of Philanthr'py shew 

To all the sceptic nations round 

What fruit may spring from Ethiop' ground. 



6. 



And thou, Britannia ! — might I now 

One closing word indite to thee, — 
Still follow up the vigorous blow 

Thine arm hath dealt to Slavery. 
Judge not the work as yet complete, — 

Count not as yet thy victory gained, «. 
Till, stretched beneath thy trampling feet, 
The monster lies, (consignment meet,) 

Himself in turn for ever chained. 



Oh ! rest thee not, till every clime 

Hath put away this master -crime, 

Till every land and every tongue 

The demon's final knell hath rung, 

And all the Earth exclaim with thee, 

" His chains are broke ; — the Slave is free." 



DEMBA. 



PART FIRST, 



I. 



Why stands the tear in Yabba's eye ? 
Why heaves her breast that piteous sigh ? 

Why doth her frame that quivering throe, 

Such as despair alone can know, 
Convulsive rend — of agony ? — 
That frantic sob, yet half-suppressed, 
Deep struggling in her gentle breast, 
The fearful strife that fain would hide 
Of woman-fear and woman-pride ? 
Oh ! she has cause ; — though fair a and young, 
Enough of ill her soul hath wrung, — 
Enough of wrong, enough of scath, 
To tempt the Oby's * fiercest wrath. 
Lo ! where she stands, — a helpless thrall, 
Before the Allah's c lordly hall : 
Though formed by Nature's liberal hand 

Through scenes of social bliss to move, — 



11 



And to the fond domestic band 

A zest impart of purest love, — 
Snatched from each joy ; — by foul decree, 
A suffering outcast doomed to be ; — 
The butt of crime, — the sport of fate, — 
Sought out a lawless flame to sate : — 
Too soon, alas ! the fiendish hate 

Of lust rebuked condemned to prove. 



II. 



Harsh was the word when Vanholst spoke : 

Nor mercy warmed his savage heart, 
Nor slumbering sense of justice woke 

To action in that tainted part ; 
But hate and scorn, by time unbroke, 
Home to its mark each ireful stroke 

Directed with redoubled smart. — 
Not his that generous throe to feel, — 

The blissful pang of hallowed flame, 
Which only seeks its object's weal, 

And scorns a grudged embrace to claim :■ 
Not his to love. — Oh ! be that word 
On throes like Vanholst's ne'er conferred. 
Grim was his visage, — bent his brow, 
As wont with hellish rage to glow, — 
And Truth, in language of despair, 
A warning dire had written there : 
There might you trace the horrid joy 

That shot athwart his iron soul, 



12 

As listing to the Negro's cry 
Of long-protracted agony, 

His ear drank in the frantic dole. 

III. 

Dark were the deeds by white man done 
In yon Hesperia, — woe-begone 

The time, ere Britain's bless'd decree 
Gave peace to Afric's hapless son, 

And set the tortured victim free. 
'Twas his to writhe the live-long day, 

Beneath the fierce oppressor's scourge, 
And dribble loathsome Life away 

As av'rice or caprice might urge : — 
E'en when the Night her mantle threw 
Along the "heated welkin blue, — 
And all beside the wearied limb 
Reposed, she brought no change to him. 
Not his to taste the genial balm, 
Of welcome sleep's oblivious calm ; — 
Torn from his couch, a his doom was still 
To wait the sturdy despot's will, — 
To toil away the laggard hour, 
And crouch beneath the lash of power, — 
Still lengthen out the tale of woes, 
And but in thought enjoy repose. 

IV. 

And might his griefs have ended here, 
E'en he, the Negro, had been blessed ; — 



13 



Had tyrant lust not bid the tear 
Of jealousy his visage sear, 

And scorpion anguish rack his breast. 
Though wrongs unnumbered round him rose,— 

Though crushing labour marked his lot, — 
Love still had soothed that labour's close, 
And the long round of toil and blows 

In fond endearments been forgot : — 
But even here, in tend' rest part, 

Where only life could wear a smile, 
His soul was doomed to feel the smart 

Of lordly Insult's triumph vile ; — 
Each kindlier feeling rived and torn, — 

Each sacred band by Nature wove 

Broke harshly through, and doomed to prove 
The ribald jeer of lawless scorn : — 
So cursed the Slave, — his portion such, 
At reinless Lust's infernal touch. 

V. 

Dark is the picture, — but too well 
The portrait serves for Vanholst fell, 
Whose ruthless heart was never known 
To strike one throb for Negro's moan ; 
Nor mercy ever pleaded there 
In aid of suffering sorrow's prayer, — 
But Cruelty, an in-born guest, 
Rode rampant in his flinty breast. 
Too justly rued the sable crew 
c 



14 



The fate that chose him for their lord ; 
Alas ! too well that heart they knew, — 
That iron sou] they conn'd too true, — 

Though feared by all, — by all abhorred. 
Would'st note his fame ? — be this the style,- 
' The vilest of surrounding vile ; ' — 
Nor would the term too harshly tell 
Of tyrant courses, known too well 
To tempt rebuff, or fear the brand 
From refutation's shrinking hand. 

VI. 

Old as he was, — a graybeard ; — still 

No languor checked his vicious will ; 

Age but increased each giant sin, 

And streams of hotter wrath let in ; — 

As though conspiring Fates adverse 

Would so entwine the grievous curse, 

That when, at last, — about to fall 

In Vanholst's death, it most might gall. 

Well might poor Yabba mourn the hour 

That placed her in his savage power, — 

Dashed from her lips the sparkling bliss 

Of hope, — and plunged in woe's abyss 

That bosom pure, untinged with guile, 

Unpractised-all in art or wile ; — 

For Love had marked the beauteous maid,- 

(In evil hour his shaft was flung ; 
To Vanholst's ken too soon betrayed, 



15 



That shaft her knell prophetic sung.) 
Young Demba woo'd, — nor woo'd in vain, — 
Not more a fond than favored swain ; — 
The pride of Guian's a tawny sons, 

Of Afric's outlawed heirs was he ; 
Fair sample of the blood which runs 

Untainted e'en in Slavery : — 
Nor, though unblushing pride impugns 

The Black as brutish, h could there be 

An untrained heart more truly free 
From all those stains of moral dye 
Which mark the mind's delinquency, — 
And which alone, would Right engrave 
The truth, point out the real Slave. 

VII, 

Gentle he was, — and had his lot 

Been cast where sage Instruction's hand 

Might train the embryo virtues, not 
The prime of academic land 

A youth of mind — of parts more rare 

Could have produced, to stand compare. 

But not for him the joys that wave, 
Luxuriant in Platonic grove ; 
Howe'er his genius might have strove, 
His web of doom the Fates had wove, — 

He was a Negro, — and a Slave ; 

And these two words concentered all 

Of infamy that white man's gall 



16 

Could cast on his devoted head :-*— 
Vain were the gifts which Nature shed 
So lavish on him ; — vile and base 
Was deemed the worth of all his race ; 
And Demba, who, had Fortune shone 
Propitious, might have honours won, 
Was by that adverse power decreed 
Beneath a tyrant's lash to bleed. 

VIII. 

Gentle he was, — and might have borne 

Submissively his wayward fate, 
Had he alone of Vanholst's scorn 

And murd'rous unrelenting hate 
Been the sad object, — but he knew 
Full well his faithful Yabba too 
No less had roused the tyrant's ire, 
The lion wrath of balked desire ; — 
And in that hour a scene of woe 

Was plotting for the hapless pair, 
Which could not fail yet more to throw 

O'er every hope the hue despair, 
And wake into an eddy bright 
Long quell'd resentment's glimm'ring light. 

Explain we here ; — we do not say, 

Howe'er provoked the lover may 
Have been, that vengeful burst was right ; — 
Instructed from the Book Divine, 
Which meekness breathes in every line, 



17 



We dare not; but, alas ! our youth 
Knew not the ' says ' of Sacred Truth ; 
He was a Pagan, and, as such, 
Not proof against unhallowed touch : 
Be this then our sufficient plea, — 
Kesume we now our minstrelsy. 

IX. 

To screen his Yabba from her foe 
A ready blade a young Demba bore ; 

And had her woman-heart been so, — 

Had she consented, long ago 

His vengeful arm had struck the blow 
Deserved, — and, weltering in his gore, 

Laid cruel Vanholst ever low. 

Ill might the youth his ire restrain, — 

Resentment thrill' d through every vein ; 

And soon the tyrant's well-earned lot 
Had been to writhe in deathful pang, 
Had Yabba not in secret sprang 

To rescue him, — and all forgot 

Her wrongs been in soft pity's clang, — 

She wished his death, but sought it not. 



" Hear ! " — cried Vanholst, " this very hour 
Yields thee submissive to my power, — 
Or racks thy stubborn limbs shall strain, 



18 



And Demba list thy groans in vain. 
Nor shall he 'scape, the wayward boy, 
Whose hopes presumptuous thwart my joy ; 
The whip shall greet his bold essay, 
And lashes chant his bridal lay." 
So spake the Allah, as in state 
On silken couch reclined he sate, — 
While round, an odorous cloudlet hung, 
From gin and pure Havannah sprung ; 
Five paces off, beneath the stair, 

His wretched victim trembling stood : — 
A mute domestic, here and there 
Slow wending through the tyrant's lair 

Made up the panorama rude. 

XL 



He spake ; — but Yabba could not speak, 

Or answer make the stern behest ; 
Chaste indignation flushed her cheek, — 

And throbb'd with scorn her gentle breast.- 
One moment's space, and wild despair 
His dark inspirings planted there, — 
Roused to its keenest pitch her ire, 
And retribution's glowing fire ; 
The next 'twas gone ; — Contempt alone 

At Mercy's call resum'd her sway ; 
Flurled Vengeance from his charnel throne, 

And chased the gathering fiends away. 



19 
XII. 

Oh ! had you seen that rapid glance, 

As the big passion swell'd within, — 
Which shook each nerve as from a trance, 
And shot its lightning flash askance, — 

The quick red bolt of sudden sin 
Instinctively engendered ; — foiled, 
Thy staggering vision had recoiled ;— 
That look had froze the boldest heart, 
And e'en Yanholst had learned to fear, 
Paused on the verge of fate so near, 
And deigned to act a safer part. 
He saw it not ; — 'twas there, — 'tis past, — 
That baleful pang has struck its last ; 
One moment twanged that deadly thrill ; — 
Another comes, — and all is still ; 
Her quivering lip sips patience' balm, 
Her rushing blood once more is calm ; 
Freed of its folds her ruffled brow, — 
Her eyes with milder transports glow ; 
Each angry feature smoothes the while, 
And settles in a scornful smile. 

XIII. 

Firm to his purpose, once again 
The tyrant press'd her quick reply ; 
" Say, wilt thou yield thee ?" — but her eye 

Glanced back on his with proud disdain, 



20 



As with convulsive force she press'd 
Her clasp'd hands to her aching breast, 
And answered, " Never ; " — at the word 
Upstarted then her wrathful lord, — 
" What, ho ! — Myallah ! — hither bring 

The minion Demba ; — quick ! " — 'tis done ; 

Pinioned to earth that gallant one, 
And loud the whistling lashes ring. — 
Nor he alone, — for Yabba too 
In handstocks vile is stretched to view ; 
While Vanholst stood exulting by, 
And answer made each groan and sigh, — 
" Say, wilt thou yield ?" — but ever still 
The maid disdained his impious will ; 
And to his listening ear were borne 
Her fainting sobs, in changeless scorn 
Still lisping " Never," — till e'en he 
Tired of successless cruelty, — 
Despaired to bend a heart so tough, 
And with an oath exclaimed, " Enough." 

XIV. 

Unhappy man ! — thy rage in vain 
Was poured upon the noble twain ; — 
Not less in vain the felon thought, — 
Nor less with bootless folly fraught, 
Which doom'd the youth thine ire to meet 
E'en at his faithful mistress' feet. 
All-glorying in the destined lot, 



21 



Himself had chose no fitter spot ;— 

In vain the sounding scourge was thrown,- 
He writhed not once, nor heaved a groan ; 
While fixed his soul on her alone, 
He took the lash but felt it not. 
To pour the fervent prayer on high, 
That Heaven would crown her constancy 
With success to such merit due, 
Was all the pang her lover knew ;— 
And oft as, bending low her head — 

Unconscious half of fainting life, 
Her eye met his, that token spread 
New vigour through her frame, and sped 
Fresh courage for the fearful strife. 

XV. 

Past is that scene : — the angel- scribe, 

Whose never-ceasing rapid pen 
Records amid the pitying tribe 

Of Heaven the sinful deeds of men, 
One other crime of foulest dye, 
In huge broad lines of infamy, 
Scores underneath the blackened tier 
Which marks the tyrant's sad career. — 
Past is that scene ; — but in the breast 

Of Demba — Yabba, from that hour 

A mutual purpose gathers power 
For action, which, though long a guest 
Retained by either — desp'rate hope 



22 

Imparting, till this shameful day, 
Had slumbered in abeyance — scope 

Thereby affording to the play 
Of impulses that served but more 
Endearingly to bring before 
The eye of each the guileless tie 
Which bound them in one destiny. — 
That purpose ' flight ' ; — and, for the thought 

To settle into fixed resolve 
Reciprocal, there needed not 
Long speech, — but, as by instinct taught, 

One little word sufficed to solve 
All difficulties ;— that word—" Bush ! " 

Spoke in a whisper, — less perceived 
By ear than eye, — a sudden gush 

Of mind commingling, which deceived 
All eyes but theirs : — one other breath 

Or glance the hour spoke, — while a sigh 

Long-drawn to by-gone memory, 
The rendezvous appointed — *neath 
Whose tutelage the plighted twain 
Might burst Oppression's galling chain. 

XVI. 

Muse ! speed thy course : — the day is spent, 
And angry Sol hath sunk to rest ; — 
Night rushes a down, a dingy guest, 
And all in pitchy gloom is dress'd, — 

Save where, upon her coif besprent, 



23 

(Her spangled robe of ornament,) 

Peeps through the jet each starry crest. 
Yet labour still in ceaseless round 

Ekes out the Negro's tedious hour ; 
Nor yet for him has Pity found 

Short respite from Oppression's power : — - 
Though Day has fled, the traitor ^ oil 
Still lights the Slave to midnight toil ;— 
Still echoes there with dizzy peal 
The engine's quick-revolving wheel ; 
Still totter on the feeble c train, 
Half sinking 'neath the cumbrous cane ; 
And last, not least, the infant throng 
Still chanting forth the tortured d song. 

XVII. 

Hour follows hour : — each lingering strike a 

Which marks the minutes' slow decay, 
More tedious than the former, — like 

Much- wearied traveller on his way 
Counting the mile-stones, one by one 
Slow passing, till the last is gone. — 
Tired Nature sinks : — then, from the shell b 

Of watchman, an awakening note — 
Full loud and long, calls up ' the spell ' ; c — 
Those homeward wending, — these for night- 
Employ harassing newly dight. — 

Yet still upon the night-breeze float 
Their drowsy glees, — evincing there 



24 

A buoyant soul — dispelling care. 
And while the twinkling gems above 

Fling o'er th' aerial arch a ray 

Of struggling light — obscurely gray, 
Their longing fancies wildly rove 
In dreams ' half-real ' to those seats 

Empyrean, which untutored thrall 
Paints as the undisturbed retreats 

Where Negro spirits dwell, when, all 
Their pilgrimage of sorrow past, 
Death sets the prisoners free at last. 

XVIII. 

'Twas by that light so blear and dim 

Young Demba sought the well-known mound, 
Aye consecrate to love and him, 

By towering palms a and cocoas crowned, 

And broomy hettas^ waving round. 
'Twas strange, he thought,— the breezy swell 

Bore to his ear the distant sound 
Of driver's call and urchins' yell, 
But Yabba's light step, known full well, 

Not yet trod o'er the dusky ground. 
'Twas past the hour, — and busy thought 
Conjectures wild of fancy wrought ; — 
Perhaps had failed her woman-heart, 
And feared from friends and home to part, — 
For still 'twas home, — and charms were there, 
Though in a tyrant's horrid lair ; 



25 



Perhaps Vanholst ; but here he paused, — 

That maddening image scarce had cross'd 
His jealous soul, ere, wild with ire, 
His eyeballs flashed consuming fire ; 
Each fibre owned the kindling touch, — 
He grasped his blade with firmer clutch, — 
Cleft the dank sod, as 'twere his foe 
Lay grovelling at his feet below, — 
Then spurned it with unearthly glee, 
And gnashed his teeth in agony. 

XIX. 

Fiend of the green and bleary eye — 
Whose sickening glance bids reason fly, 
Oh Jealousy ! thy spell hath power 
Life's most nectareous draughts to sour, — 

To rack with rage the placid soul, 

And bid the blackest passions roll 
Where kindest feelings reigned before. 
Thy brand, alike — by all confessed, 
Or planted in the Negro's breast, 
Or that of Europe's fairer son, 
With giant ardour blazes on. 
And such we find, — so near akin 
Our purest bliss to deadliest sin ; — 
Scarce thrills in rapture wild our frame 
With mighty Love's celestial flame, 
Ere jealous tortures damp our joy, 
And gathering doubts our transports cloy ; — 



26 

Ere yet its sweets we've time to sip. 
Dashed rudely from our eager lip, 
The cup of promise falls to ground, 
Its brittle fragments scattered round, — 
And keen remembrance swells the blast 
While pondering on the vision past. 

Now stooping to the ground his ear, 

Young Demba wooes the fitful gale, — * 
As that perchance might lightly bear 

Some tidings of the dreaded tale. 
Strained is each nerve with anxious fear 

To catch the sound of distant wail ; 
But all is silent now and still, 
Save where the hoarse incessant mill 
Toils round and round in endless clack, 
And throws its iron echoes back : — 
No recognition comes from thence 
To blight the murky fiend Suspense. 
In fancy now he hears the tread 
Of footsteps nigh ; — he lifts his head, — 
His pulse beats thick, — again 'tis lost, 
His fondest hopes once more are cross'd ; — 
Oh ! torture vile ; — he may not stay, 
Or waste in doubt the night away ; — 
4 Vanholst ' , and there, revenge anew 

Like hissing lava seared his blood, — 
And up he sprung, resolved ' to do,' — 



27 



But scarce had turned, ere, bursting through 
The tangled canes, lo ! straight to view, 
His Yabba's self before him stood. 

XXL 

Oh ! could I trace the varied throe, 

That rived the panting lover's soul, 
As, breathing vengeance on his foe — 
And prompt to strike the deathful blow, 

That glance of glad surprise he stole, 

And clasped with eager arms the goal 
Of all his quivering hopes, — despair 
To joy ecstatic yielding there, — 
The grateful theme might well demand 

Each latent spark of minstrel fire, 
And bid me sweep with master-hand 

Erato's long-neglected lyre. 
Few are the words employed to greet 
The welcome wild when lovers meet ; 
One fond embrace will better tell 
Love's language, understood so well, — 
And 'sooth will say one raptured ken, 
Words are but idle baubles then. 
Though crowned with hope, the absent pair 
Still pine beneath a load of care ; 

But when Misfortune's crooked sting 
Has left its cankering venom there, — 

And brooding Misery spreads her wing 
Till hope is lost in wan despair, — 
How bright the dawn, when, sorrow past, 
The long-sought meeting comes at last ! 



28 
XXII. 

And such was theirs ; — by stealth they met, 

Unnumbered dangers round them hung : 
Their scheme might fail, and Yanholst yet 
His victims hold, — or should they get 

Beyond his grasp, that issue flung 
Them wanderers far from friends and home ; 

But this nor that that moment stung 

Their bounding hearts with grief, or wrung 
One drop of thrilling ecst'cy from 
The all- entrancing heaven of bliss 
Which centred in that silent kiss. — 
" My life !— my all !— my faithful maid ! " 
At length the spell-struck lover said ; — 
" My Yabba dear ! " — but while he spoke. 
Sobs from her swelling bosom broke ; 
And as she clasped her Demba round, 

And silent thought on former woe, 
The labouring passion gathered ground, 

And the big tear began to flow. — 
That morn had seen the noble girl 

Repel with scorn the tyrant's suit ; 
That morn had seen the tyrant whirl 

The lash of lawless power, — while, mute, 
She bore each pang with proud disdain, 
And answered not his taunts again ; 
Yet does she now, that struggle past, 
A woman's weakness feel at last ; 
Her breast disdain no longer sears, 
And her full soul dissolves in tears* 



29 
XXIII. 

How strange a thing is Woman-kind ! 

What medley rare of contraries ! 
A paradox, wherein we find 

Each point its own antithesis. 
Weak, gentle, fair, — as Heaven alone 
Her peerless form were meet to own, — 
Or realms from pain and sorrow free 
Alone drink in her minstrelsy ; — 
Fearful of ill, — yet, danger nigh, 
Far hence these timorous fancies fly ; 
She braves the storm, confronts the wrong, 
As lion bold, as giant strong : — 
Man, lordly phantom ! shrinks aghast, 

Or but retards his threatened fall ; 
Alone, she stems the angry blast, — 

And, while he ponders, conquers all, 

XXIV. 

I've wandered far, — I've proved her oft,— 

But ever found, or jet or fair, 
Each nobler impulse, feeling soft, 

In native brightness centre there. 
What Ledyard« with enraptured tongue 
In praise of heavenly Woman sung, — 
What Park h once proved, 'twas mine to prove ; 
For when, by adverse genii drove, 
My sinking spirit vainly strove, — 



30 



And all the warring world beside 
Seemed leagued upon the demons' side, 
Her hand the needful boon supplied, — 

Her angel- voice breathed peace and love. 

Hail ! honoured sex ; — for this, my weak 
But overflowing thanks accept, — * 
Thanks which my grateful soul hath wept, 

But language ne'er could fully speak. 

Hail ! lovely Woman ; — in thy praise 
The Muse forgets her wonted strain ; 

So sport in air the ravished fays 

When Dian' sheds her cloudless rays : — 
Resume we now our tale again. 

XXV. 

Again young Demba fondly press'd 

The weeping maiden to his breast, — 

Breathed sigh for sigh in soft dismay, 

And kissed the pearly drops away. 

" And dost thou grieve ? — and canst thou fear, 

My Yabba, when thy Demba' s near ? 

Is not my plighted faith thine own ? 

My life's last struggle thine alone ? 

My arm to guard thee safe from ill, 

My hand to guide thee, ready still ? — 

Dost ask revenge ?■ — give but the word, 

And he shall fall, that wretch abhorr'd ; 

Speak but his doom, — and, 'tis decreed, 

This very hour shall see him bleed." 



31 



" Forbear, my friend ! " — u Tis well : — I do : — 
May Heaven award the wretch his due, — 
And God a avenge us : — Now for flight ; — 
We may not waste the precious night : — 
Say, — art thou ready ? — wilt thou go ? — 
Doth thy heart fail thee ? " — " Demba, no." 

XXVI. 

One more embrace, — another tear, 

And Yabba's heart had banished fear : — 

One inward glance fond memory took 

Of parents dear and friends forsook, — 

By cruel Fortune forced to roam 

Far from the native sweets of home, 

And seek in exile wild and drear 

That rest from wrong denied her here ; — 

And Nature then well nigh had won, 

And left the bold exploit undone, — 

But Love at that dread crisis came, 

And nerved afresh her trembling frame ; 

And Vanholst's image rose anew 
In all the pomp of demon power 
And raging lust ; — she could no more, — 

But, shuddering at the tale too true, 

Through the dim mist one rapid view 

Home-wandering snatched, — and groaned "Adieu." 



32 



Thus far our story ; — we have seen 

What ills from c Rule run riot ' spring ; 
How curs'd the Negro's lot hath been 

Beneath Oppression's iron wing : — 
Nor fondly deem our sketch of Bas a 

In lurid hues of hellish shade, 

Surpassing sober truth, portrayed ; — 
Such things have been, — and from the mass 
Of kindred deeds that long disgraced 
Unbless'd Hesperia's moral waste, 
These few are drawn, — to warn, to shew 
What man in pride of power can do ; 
What his deceitful heart hath done, — 
What lengths his giant passions run ; 
To raise, in fine, the beacon high 
Above the monster Slavery. 
Nor let us, while the towering ilame 

Shoots far and near its warning glare, 
Once vainly think the grovelling shame, 

The curse, — a milder form may wear ; — 
It cannot ; — long as Man is Man, 

By Grace his heart yet unsubdued, 
The very badge must prove a ban 

To all advance of real good. 
The bond holds forth too strong a lure 
To men's worst lusts for partial cure : 
At every turn the fiend will lurk, 
In every form the plague will work ; 
Pride, Hate, Revenge, a horrid train, 
In either breast will surely reign, — 



33 



Concealed, displayed, — disguised or bare, 
As need may prompt, — but ever there. 
Exceptions may be, where awhile 
From some rare cause a hollow smile 
Shall slightly tinge the demon's cheek ; — 
Oh ! trust it not, — or, might it speak, 
What harrowing tales would then be told 
Of hearts long seared, affections cold, — 
Of blighted hopes, and wan despair, 
Combining all to plant it there, 
And give the soul its last foul dye, 
Degrading, — damning apathy ! — 
Men's rights are equal h ; — all are free, 
Or should be so, — and this they know : 
Or black or white, — through weal and woe, 
Each has a guide this truth to show ; 
And where this moral axiom be 
Not made their compact, Peace will flee, — 

Life's purest streams omit to flow, 
And Art and Science wing their way 
To climes lit up by Freedom's ray. 



NOTES 



PART FIRST. 



STANZA I. 

u. — Fair, — i. e. — beautiful. 

b. — Oby or Obeah; — literally, death, — the name given to 
the Black Art, as practised (or supposed to be practised) 
by the Negroes. In this place the term has reference 
to the individual exercising the craft. I am not quite 
sure that it is identical with, but at any rate it is very 
similar to, the Gree-gree of native Africa. Whether its 
influence be real or imaginary, however, the incantations 
of the Oby-man have sometimes been attended with the 
most fearful results ; whole plantations having not un- 
frequently been depopulated and abandoned through the 
force of this magical malaria. 

c. — Manager or Proprietor; — the character here referred 
to was a compound of both. 

STANZA III. 

a. — On the Sugar-plantations, (especially during crop- 
time, which in some cases is nearly all the year round) 
night-work is indispensable. It is not the use but the^ 
abuse of this necessary evil which the waiter calls in 
question. 

STANZA VI. 

a. — Guiana; — in one portion of which colony, viz. Berbice, 
the scene of this story is laid. 



35 



b. — I believe the vulgar and unnatural though widely- 
received prejudice, that Black intellect is inferior to 
White, is rapidly giving way. There was a time when 
the poor ill-used Hottentot was the subject of a similar 
gibe ; but by God's blessing on Missionary labours, that 
notion too is now pretty well exploded 5 and I trust the 
day is not far distant when it will be made appear, that 
"God hath made of one blood all the nations of men on 
the face of the earth." 

STANZA IX. 

«. — The Cutlass, — used by the Negroes for cutting canes, 
&c. 

STANZA X. 

a. — In plain prose, 'handstocks' ; — a mode of punishment 
exclusively used for the female Slaves. 

STANZA XVI.. 

o. — Between the tropics there is little or no twilight, so 
that the figure is almost literally true. 

b. — Cocoa-nut Oil, — with which the lamps in the boiling- 
house, &c. are usually supplied. The Cocoa-palm is 
one of the most useful trees possessed by the inhabitants 
of torrid climes; and the expression is intended to 
exhibit that as turning its powers or properties against 
him, which, under a different state of things, would 
have greatly contributed to his domestic felicity. 

c. — Truly, if we may be allowed Scripture phraseology, 
"the halt and the maimed" were brought into requisi- 
tion here. One of the most disgusting exhibitions a 
Sugar estate afforded, was the turning out of the crippled 
inmates of the sick logee every evening for the purpose 
of heaving out the canes from the last punts, and bund- 
ling them off to the mill. 



36 



ft',-— Gangs of young Creoles, engaged in carrying away the 
Cane-refuse, or in potting Sugar. I have often listened 
with all a poet's ecstacy, to the wild cadence of the 
Negro ditties, hut must frankly acknowledge that the 
singing to which this note refers had no such charm. 
They were compelled to sing by the driver, to prevent 
their falling asleep ; and if either of the exhausted little 
wretches omitted a stave, the lash was liberally applied. 

STANZA XVII. 

a. — In the manufacture of Sugar, the process of evapora- 
tion is carried on till the liquor in the last copper 
becomes granulous ; it is then ladled into large coolers ; 
and this is technically called " striking the tetch" ; the 
interval between each strike varying from 1 hour to 1£ 
hour. 

b. — A horn or conch, blown by the watchman or one of 
the drivers, for the purpose of calling up the Negroes 
whose turn it is to relieve those employed at the mill. — 
Most of the estates are furnished with a swing-bell, for 
ringing out the gangs, &c. but this is seldom used after 
sundown, except in case of fire or other emergencies. 

c. — The relieving gangs. 

STANZA XVIII. 

a. — A more convenient designation for the elegant and 
majestic Mountain-cabbage : — moreover, it is beyond 
question, the finest of the palm tribe, and therefore has 
6 par excellence' a right to wear exclusively the family 
name. 

b. — A species of the Palm, which bears on its apex a 
beautiful tufted flower, somewhat in appearance like a 
heather broom. 



37 



STANZA XXIV. 

a. — Vid. Ledyard's 'Praise of Woman/ 

b. — Mungo Park, the African traveller, whose pathetic 
adventure at Sego, the capital of Bambarra, must be too 
generally known to need any further allusion here: 
vid. * Travels ' : — also the beautiful little paraphrase by 
the Duchess of Devonshire, commencing, 

" The loud wind roared " : — 

STANZA XXV. 

a. — Though the Negroes were unhappily ignorant of the 
nature of God ; and, as Pagans, acted only in accord- 
ance with the light they had ; yet, from their connection 
with white-men, they would not be wholly unacquainted 
with His name : and this remark will serve as an excuse 
for the one or two instances in which we have adopted 
the commonly-received appellation of the Divine Being, 
in preference to any of those heathenish terms whereby 
they would designate an over-ruling Power. 

SUPPLEMENT. 

a. — A Dutch word in common use among the Guiana 
Negroes, signifying manager or overseer. 

b. — Lest the writer should be misunderstood, he deems it 
proper to observe, that no more is meant by this asser- 
tion, than those rational rights which Nature and 
common-sense clearly point out, and the well-being of 
the body-politic allows : viz. personal liberty, or a free- 
dom from capricious and tyrannical control, an impartial 
administration of law, and a mutual participation of the 
blessings of social order, — such as the excellent con- 
stitution of our own country affords, and such as might 
be by all our countrymen enjoyed, were all wise enough 
4 to leave well alone.' 

E 



DEMBA 



PART SECOND. 



L 



For Bush-land, a ho ! — now, loyal pair, 
One stroke for freedom nobly dare ; — 
Each willing nerve in concert strain, 
Nor quarter give to grief or pain ; — 
Entrance be none to laggard care, — 
The watchword, ' Hope,' — avaunt despair !- 
Rough is the road, — the way is far, 
And perils thickly scattered are ; 
But worthy risk and toil 'twill be 
That soul-enlivening thing to see, — 
For there the blue vault's regal Star 

Sheds his bright beams on Negro free ; — 
Wild, we might add ; — and yet not wild,* 
Though on that spot hath never smiled 
Refinement bland ; — and though 'tis true 
False prejudice at sidelong view 
Would thus denounce him ; — (justly too, 



39 

If only by that sweeping term 
Were meant fair Order still in germ, 
Or state where Art and learned Law 
Not yet the car politic draw ;) 
But Equity, 'twixt man and man, 
Each counter- trait will duly scan, 
And by an humbler standard try 
The Bushman's badge of ' liberty.' 

II. 

Wild are the scenes which round him rise, 
Where thickets huge, whose tangled mass 
Scarce lets the trembling day-beam pass, 

Rear their dark foliage to the skies. 

Wild were the means by which he sought 

To make more light his weary lot,' — 

To burst the bonds of Slavery, 

And claim his birth-right a ' to be free.' 

Wild and untutored, too, his mind, 

Deep plunged, alas ! in Pagan shade ; — 

Nor less removed from mode refined, 
Must be confessed, the thievish raid 

By which the Outlaw strove to sate 

His double passion, — quenchless hate 

To cruel Buckra, b and the love 

Of bold emprise, — a wide-spread flame, 

Which prouder hearts than his hath drove 
On deeds of daring, such as Shame 

Might blush to think of, or the shell 

Of shrinking Fame refuse to tell. 



40 

III. 

These drawbacks made, — the anxious eye 
Rests with unfeigned complacency 
On spots, once waste, rejoicing now 
In all the rich and varied show 
Of hardy Bushman's industry. — 
There, clad in Nature's brightest green, 
And waving in the breeze, is seen 
The plantain's leafy diadem,— 
While, pendent from its fleshy stem, 
The clustering fruit in changeful hue 
Of green and yellow meets the view. 
And here and there, of kindred stock, 
The dark, banana (deftlier crowned) 
Its luscious odour flings around : — 
There too the purple manioc, a 
The downy ocra, h flowering yam, 
With all the gay and spicy train 
That grace the tropic Flora's reign, 
Harmonious blend on either dam c ; 
While far and wide those dams between, 
Chief features of the gaudy scene, 
Rice, maize and canes, alternate raise 
Their trophied forms to Bushman's praise ;- 

IV. 

Nor wrongly. — To this slight portray 

Of happy Outlaw's forest-home, 
Suffice it now in brief to say, 



41 



That where his low and matted dome 
Its unpretending structure rears, 
Love's purest flame continuous cheers 
His sooty breast, — and social peace, 

Ungerm'd by Art or studied Laws, 
Bids strife its evil workings cease, 

And each to other closer draws, — 
From patriarchal Allah-man a 
Adown to humblest of the clan, 
In bonds which mutual sense of wrong 
From hated Buckra makes more strong.- 
What more of Bushland we may view, 
The sequel of our tale will shew ; — 
Proceed we now with courteous care 
To guide the flying lovers there. 



They durst not linger ; — once resolved, 

Dispatch alone could safety find ; 
For dangers though the scheme involved, 

More urgent ills remained behind, 
Should aught detain them : — on they go, 

And down the side-line a bend their way, — 
Though scarce the gray vault's spangled glow 
Or dam from ditch might serve to show, 

As twinkled faint each starry ray. 
Yet Demba kenn'd the track full well, 

Nor needed he the lamp of day 
Where lay the centre-path to tell, 



42 



Or on his steps assiduous dwell, — 

Long used on midnight tour * to stray. 
Fear lent them wings, — not such as fills 
The coward's breast at threatened ills, — 
Not such as strikes with speechless awe 
The wretch condemned by righteous Law ; — 
No selfish dread their bosoms fired, 
But Love that noble fear inspired, — 
Fear for each other, lest the hand 
Of adverse Fate should bid them " stand," — 
And Fame's loud trump, but seldom mute, 
Rouse up Vanholst to quick pursuit. 

VI. 

Reached the back-dam, at length they stood 

A minute's welcome space to breathe ; 
Pursue them now who might, who could, — 
Deep hidden in the tangled wood, 

Where scarce the deer might creep beneath 
The mass of brake and fallen tree, 
Safety was theirs and liberty. 

Exulting in the glorious boon, 
Their young hearts beat more wild and free ; 

And brightly now up rose the moon, 
As if with glance approving, she 
Their 'scape would hail from Slavery. 
True, many a weary feat of toil 

Awaited still the youthful twain ; 
Far distant yet the hallowed soil 



43 



Where Freedom breaks the bondman's chain,- 
And risks from thousand quarters rise 
To blight, mayhap, their young emprise : — 
But, where they stand, on neutral ground, — 
All hushed and still the welkin round, 
Each pressing fear has passed away, 
And Hope rides high on DianVray. 

VIL 

Wrapt in each other, Love alone 

That breathing-space had charms for them, 

And scattered flowerets only known 
To bloom on mutual passion's stem. — 

" See, Yabba, see yon crescent bright 
That flings around her silver beam,- — 

Slow peering o'er the silent night, 
Her image dancing in the stream. 

Thrills not thy soul with new delights,— 
Doth not within thy gentle breast 
A kindred brightness shine confessed, 
As here — (thus far with success crowned) 
We look our last on Buckra-ground, 
And pledge our mutual troth to be, 
In heart and limb, henceforward free ? 
Nor let us doubt : — the glorious prize, 
Within our grasp, before us lies. 
Courage, awhile ; — and, danger done, 
That prize inspiring shall be won : — 
What they a have done, ourselves will do, 



44 



And their resplendent track pursue. 
Now let us go ; — yon orb invites, — 
To cheer us lends her friendly ray, 
And seems to chide our brief delay ; — 
Then, haste we, Yabba, — haste away." 

VIII. 

Once more they shape their eager course 

Through troolies^ thick and hettas high, 
Repelling stubborn force by force ; 
As, yielding to the passers-by, 
With spring elastic back they fly. 
Now comes the tug of real toil, 
Where crossing boughs their efforts foil, 
And each new step they gain within, 
By dint of steel are forced to win. 
Here twine the mangrove's crooked roots 
Above ground, hid in grassy stole ; 
And there the prickly manicole 
Puts forth to bloom its hostile shoots ; 
And here and there the marshy pool, 
O'erhung with bamboos green and tall, 
Where monkeys frisk and guanas crawl,- 
While crappoes * with incessant brawl 
Sport gaily on the margin cool : — 
Yet this nor that, nor brake nor swamp, 
Young Demba's buoyant soul could damp. 
As Orpheus from the Stygeian shore, 
By Proserpina's rare decree 



45 



And music's charms, in triumph bore 

His ' half-regained Eurydice,' — 
So strove the youth with vigour new, 
And bore his Yabba safely through ; 
Nor once his strength or courage failed, 
But Love's all-conquering power prevailed. 

IX. 



In vain opposing thickets frown, — 
The fugitives they might not stay ; — 
Smote by his blade, their joints give way, 
And crashing boughs a come tumbling down. 
Loud echoes on the silent night 
The baboon's howl of wild affright ; 
The trembling deer with eye askance 
From covert throws a distant glance ; 
The jaguar h licks his ravenous jaws, 
And half unsheathes his fatal claws, — 
Pricks up his ears, strains every string, 
And crouches low in act to spring : — 
That moment through the opening shade 

The nickering moon-beam spread its glear, 
And to his fiery ken displayed 

Man's sacred image wending near ; 
The cowering monster, awe-inspired, 

Shrinks back from the forbidden prize, — < 
Though hunger-pressed, by rapine fired, 
And bursting through the thicket flies. 



46 
X. 



All night the lovers journeyed on, 

Unwearied still, through brake and fen, 
Till fade the night-gems one by one, 
And from the eastern horizon 

Up springs Heaven's flaming denizen. 
Fair Cynthia mourns her empire gone, — 
In zenith pride turns pale and wan, 
And darting down a feeble ray — 
Not silvery bright, but leaden gray — 
Faints on her throne and dies away. 
Then stayed the pair, — as well they might ; 
Scrambling through Bush the live-long night, 
Poor Yabba's feet could scarce sustain 

Their tottering burden, — gashed and torn 

With many a wound from stump and thorn,- 
While her whole body ached with pain. 
6 One little hour, — a needful while, 
Let sleep thy wearied powers beguile ; ' 
So pleads affection : — at the word, 
They couch upon the dewy sward, — 
Each one to each in dulcet key — 

Scarce rising 'bove impassioned sigh, 
Quick chanting there — invokingly, 

A love-engendered lullaby. 
Yet Demba slept not, — though he feigned 

To yield him to th' oblivious power, 
Till Yabba's sense was fast enchained 

In dizzy Morpheus' magic bower ; — 



47 



To rest him then the youth disdained, — ■ 
More pleasing task for him remained, 
Fond guardian of her sleeping hour. 

XL 

Beside her rushy couch to kneel, 
And rapturous glances softly steal, — 
Such bliss to feel as lovers feel, 

And only they may hope to know ; 
To thwart the fierce mosquito's sting, 
As circling upon angry wing 
The vengeful myriads shrilly sing, 

And wild with thirst of carnage glow ; 
Still prompt her slumbering sense to lull, — 
Or with assiduous hand to cull 
The bush-fruits for their humble fare 
Which bounteous Nature scattered there, 
Was Demba's choice ; — and when she woke, 
(By the loud-screaming parrot 05 broke 
Her dreamy rest) the kindling smile 
That played among her features, while 
With faultering voice and anxious eye 
She sought her lover, kneeling by, 
Tenfold repaid him, — and a zest 

Or vigour through his manly frame 
Diffused, which e'en that very rest — 

How suitable soe'er its claim, 
Could never have afforded — or 
Enduring toil so fitted for. 



48 
XII. 

And see ! — as through the quivering brake 

The Day-Star shoots his level beams, — 
O'er bush, and glade and misty lake, 

Light, Life, and Joy's celestial streams 
Diffusing, — on the glittering sod, 

Hand locked in hand, the couple bend ; 
While to that power (a present God) 

Their simple orisons ascend ; — 
In substance thus : — " Bright Glory, — thou, 

O Sun ! from whose benignant sphere 
Good flows to all ; — whose broad eye now 

Darts through these wilds, and views us here 
Outcasts and wanderers ; — on our way 
Unfriended let thy cheering ray 
Shine down propitious ; — to each heart 
Thy gloom-dispelling fire impart ; — 
Guide us this day, — preserve from ill, — 
And shed thine influence o'er us, — till, 
Protected by thy hallowed spell, 
We reach the spot where freemen dwell." 

XIII. 

That duty done, — with courteous zeal 
Young Demba to the fragrant mound 

Hard by, where waits their morning meal* 
His mistress leads ; — and while around, 

The feathered choir — in strains of joy 



49 



As varied as their kinds, employ 
Their soothing powers, our ravished pair 
Safe banquet on the grateful fare. — 
Then, fondly, Yabba : — " Friend of mine, — 
O Demba ! can it ever be — 
Knit as our hearts are thus, that he 
Shall separate my lot from thine ? — 
It cannot : — yet, this morn, while sleep 

Hung on my brow, — methought I saw 
That wicked Buckra (wading deep 

Through pools of blood) approach me; — awe 
Held fast my tongue, — nor were you nigh 
To shelter me ; — his angry eye 
Glared fearfully, — and in one hand 
He held aloft a flaming brand — 
Chains in the other : — with a yell, 
(How horrible, words ne'er could tell) 
He sprang upon me, — and I woke. 
'Twas but the parrot's scream, which broke 
My slumbers, — but its echoes still 
Ring in my ears." — Her rising sobs 
And anxious heart's impassioned throbs 
Check further speech ; — big tear-drops fill 
Her eyelids : — while her lover kind, 
With arm around her waist entwined, 
And kisses — mixed with kindred sighs, 
Thus to his gentle mate replies. 

XIV. 

Cheer thee, my Yabba ! — from thy breast 
These fancies drive ; — for such I deem — 



50 



On fair inspection, stands confessed 

The tenour of your frightful dream. 
Full well I know, (for Jumbee's a seers 

So tell us) in our sleeping hours 

Grim vis'tants from His spectral bowers 
Do speak of future ; — but thy fears 
Yet urgent, thy much-wearied frame — 

By toil and flight exhausted, now 

Have wrought upon thy brain, — and so 
These visions conjured up, which claim 
No further notice than they serve 
Afresh this trusty arm to nerve 
In thy defence, and aptly prove 
How fixed — how fervent is our love." 
He said, — and with Affection's seal, 

The consecrated kiss, closed up 
Their colloquy — and peaceful meal. — 

Nor let bright Fashion's train — who sup 
On dainties, — whose emblazoned halls 

Scare aught Plebeian, with an eye 
Of contumely our simple thralls 

Look down on : — dost thou question — why ? 

Be this our brief — our just reply ; 
' WE once were Slaves :' — what inference 
May happily be gathered thence, 

Let conscience-stricken thought supply. 

XV. 

< Up, and away ! — the hours fast fly, 
And angry Sol is soaring high ; 
Nor squander thus the precious day, 



51 



But vantage take while yet ye may : ' — 
Such dictates sage from prudence flow, — 
They yield assent, — and off they go. — 
Sore is their toil, — the way is long, 

And every step is fraught with pain ; 
But Love is nimble, bold, and strong, — 
Nor (buoyed with hope) deems, while among 
Contending perils, danger wrong ; 

But, ever viewing with disdain 

Defeat, still dares — to dare again: 
Success attends the truly brave ; — 

They bear the palm, — they wear the crown,- 
And thrice-proportioned honour have— 

And bliss, who to the withering frown 
Of Difficulty nobly dare 
Stern Resolution's dauntless air 
T'oppose ; — who, (whatsoe'er the prize 
Which lightened up their longing eyes, — 
Or love, or fame, or aught beside, 
With persevering zeal allied) 

Long buffeted by adverse blast, 
Or tossed on Despond's sloughy wave, 

By dint of ' effort ' find at last 

Each threatened ill subdued and past : — 
Or should they fail, — as, spite of all 
Assiduous daring, will befall 
Sometimes, — not wanting is the meed 
Soul conjures up for noble deed. — 
How far our youthful twain have fought 
Thus boldly 'gainst afflictive lot, 



52 

Already hath been seen ;— how far 
Their energetic struggles are 
Predestined with success to be 
Rewarded, yet remains to see. 
Meantime, as duty prompts, we haste 
T'escort them through the Bushy waste. 

XVI. 

Another night, another day, 
They travel on their toilsome way : 
The next, with thrilling glee they spy 
The Bush encampment wending nigh. 
With quicker step they beat the ground, — 
No longer merged in trackless wood, 
Which long as Time itself hath stood,— 
But where the wild deer nimbly bound, 
And wide savannahs spread around. 
That evening, lo ! the setting sun 
Beheld their painful journey done ; — 
They scale the dam, — they reach the fosse, — 
But ere that line they yet may cross, 
Upstarts the Bushman's secret guard ; 
His brandished cutlass stops the way : 
" Ho ! friend or foe ? — your purpose say :"- 
" To Buckra-man a foe declared, 
And friend to such as thee :" — " Resign 
Thy weapon then in peaceful sign :" — 
'Tis done, — and, eross'd that guarded track, 
The Bushman gives the weapon back ; 



53 



Hails them as friends, — and points the road 
Where, through the bloom of rice-fields green, 

And plantains bending 'neath their load, 
The happy outlawed town is seen. 

XVII. 

O Liberty ! — all-hallowed power, — 
Indulgent Heaven's best earthly dower 
To man ; — whose voice with seraph sound 

So aptly strikes the Briton's ear, — 
To mortals, wheresoever found, 

Thine attribute divine how dear ! 
Dearly by all thy sweets are prized, 

But would they prove a double zest, 
Lo ! where yon outlaw, long despised, 

By cruel tyrants long oppressed, 
Has dashed aside the slavish yoke, 
And, self-inspired, his fetters broke. — 
What though in vile Oppression's cause 

Self-willed Injustice fain would plead 
His disregard of faith and laws, 

And sloth his native curse decreed ? 
Incredulous monster ! — pause awhile, 

And read thy confutation here, — 
Where yellow harvests ever smile, 

And plenty crowns the circling year. 
Hard fate the fleecy tribes must share, 
When wolves preside in judgment there \ — 



54 

Nor less unjust the jaundiced eye 
Of wrong-delighting Tyranny, 
Which o'er his merits light would pass, 
But grave his faults on plates of brass. 

XVIII. 

Hark ! — shouts of welcome to the skies 
Full loud and long tumultuous rise : — 
Rapt hymns of joy the Bushmen sing, 
And Echo's notes responsive ring, — 
Most fitting chorus, wild and free, 
To greet the heirs of Liberty. — 
Hail, faithful pair ! — once more the sun 

Of hope pours down his zenith rays ; 
And all the risks and toils ye've run 

Are lost in the meridian blaze. 
What now avail the tyrant's scorn, 
His whips and fetters whilom borne ; 
His base designs, his murderous ire, 
His fiendlike visage flashing fire ? 
All, all are past, — are bootless here ; — 
Joy yields no place to by-gone fear, 
Or future dread ; — the passing hour, 
Innocuous sprawls the Buckra's power : — 
Possession stamps ye truly bless'd ; — 
Fate from poor mortals hides the rest. 
Fond pair ! — rejoice then ; — from your brow 
Let carking care be banished now ; — 
Live while ye may : — for you that lay 
Which quavers on the dying day ; — 



55 

For you these strains of wild delight 
That usher in the mantling night ; 
For you they raise that gathering- cry, 
Long, loud, and thrilling, " Liberty ! " 

XIX. 

Nor yet unmixed with changeful flight 
That honest burst, — their welcome hight ; 

But various themes by turns are sung, 
With rapture rife, or vengeance dight, 

As joy or pity prompts the tongue. 
Now list ye to that fearful wail, 
As Demba tells his piteous tale ; 
Faint rising first, in murmurs low, 
The stifled wrath is c heard a to glow ; ' 
Now, gathering strength, on breezy swell 
Is borne the hoarse indignant yell 
Of execration fierce and dire, 
As Vanholst's crimes might well inspire ; 
And as it mounts, that angry strain, 
Lo ! Echo takes the word again, — 
Loud answers to the tale of wrongs, 
And each indignant note prolongs : 
"His race be cursed" — as shakes the skies, 
" Be cursed," her mimic voice replies. 



, 



XX. 



en Silence took her turn to reign, — 
And Demba (an accepted guest), 



56 



While round him throng the jovial train, 

Their hoary chieftain thus addressed. — 
" Here rest thee, youth ; — thy griefs are o'er, 
And white man ne'er shall wrong thee more ; 
Here safe remain, and live as we, 
From tyranny and insult free ; — 
Thy Yabha, too, in peace may dwell, 
Nor dread the wrath of Vanholst fell, — 
But live and love, — an honored bride, 
And taste of bliss till now denied. 
Well hast thou done, — and nobly wrought ; 
And, Demba, might the spark divine, a 
Which fires such souls as mine and thine, 
Stir up to deeds the servile crew 
Who groan and curse — but dare not do, 
Our just revenge should, swift as thought, 
Raze the huge pile so long hath stood, 
And quench the Buckra's crimes in blood. 
Vain all such hope, — for though I shame 
To see my fellow-men so tame, 
Too well I know the lengthened grief 

Has wrapt them up in apathy ; 
And though they languish for relief, 
That dastard sense alone may be 
The issue of their misery ; — 
They wish, but dare not, to be free. 
Leave we this theme ; — this night our joy 
At least no tyrant Bas shall cloy : 
Come, share our feast ; — come, pledge our cup,- 
1 Death to the Whites ! '—then drink it up." 



57 
XXI. 

66 A challenge fair/' — the youth rejoined, — 

" That well-timed pledge has touched my soul ; 
Death to the tyrant and his kind ! " — 

He said, — and drained the proffered bowl. a 
And now the maddening toast goes round, — 

" Death to the tyrant ! " rings on high, — 

" Death to his kind ! " the woods reply ; 

All Nature joins the fearful cry, 
And Echo's voice prolongs the sound. 
Up started then the frantic crew, — 

And through the mystic dance & prolong 

The gesture wild and bedlam-song, 
As Bacchanals are wont to do : — 
And hark ! I hear the bonja's c note, 
As soft its rapturous murmurs float 

Upon the evening zephyr's wings : — 
The minstrel's soul is all on fire, — 
His eye, up-turned with rapt desire, 

Glows while his fingers touch the strings ; 
And as they wander o'er the lyre, — 
Responsive to the mental choir, 

His heart pants time, — and thus he sings. 



1. 



" Haste ye here, ye jovial crew ! 
Freedom's torch is lit for you ; 
Bonds and fetters wide are thrown, 
Freedom's gifts are all your own. 



58 

Dance around in mystic ring, 
Foot it merrily while ye sing, 
Gay and sprightly — void of fear, 
6 Waa-wa Bas no vex we here.' 



List ye to my numbers, — 

Yia, b hear 5 
Here Slavery ever slumbers,- 

Yia, hear. 



Ye who once in evil hour 
Felt the Buckra's lawless power, 
Best can tell what heart-felt glow 
Freedom's sacred gifts bestow ; 
Toil and care — not yet forgot, 
Racks and whips, were then your lot 5 
Days of labour, grief and pain, — 
Nights that brought but toil again. 

Weep ye o'er past sorrow, 

Yia, O? 
Keen the pang you borrow, 

Yia, O ! 



Think no more of grief and care, 
Former throes of wan despair ; 
Now the danger's ever past, 
Bid fond memory sigh her last. 



59 

Rather snatch the promised meed 
For your bold emprise decreed,— 
Dance and revel, mirth and glee, 
To greet the heirs of Liberty. 

Is joy or sorrow sweeter ? — 

Yia, say: — 
Woe or gladness better ? — 

Yia, say. 



Maiden, taste the proffered joy, — 
Here no cares your bliss may cloy ; 
Here the iron wing of power 
Hawk-like hovers round no more. 
Maiden, to thine ear be borne 

What now prompts my friendly lay ; 
Woe-begone hath been thy morn, — 

Let pleasure gild thy opening day. 

Be thine, joy long-possessing, 

Yabba, O! 
Love's every choicest blessing, 

Yabba, O ! " 

XXII. 

Hushed is the minstrel's dying strain, — 
His bonja's strings once more are mute ; 

Nor longer on the grassy plain 

The merry-making dancer-train 
Their motions to its measures suit 



60 



Yet one, of all that joyous throng 
Who equal shone in dance or song, 
Amid her peers retiring hung, — 
But feebly danced, and faintly sung ; — 
In vain she played a pageant part, — 

Her absent gait too truly showed 

That secret grief's insidious load 
Lay heavy at her throbbing heart. 
And she had caught the minstrel's eye, 
That stranger-maiden, coy and shy ; 
Her bashful step had bid his muse 
Meet theme of admonition choose, 
And from his quick and changeful lay 
A sympathising soul display, — 
To re-assure her timid air, 
And mingle self-possession there. 
And still he glows with minstrel fires, — 
And still his fingers press the wires, 

As prompt to breathe a soothing strain ; 
But ere upon her sense yet broke 

His dulcet murmurs forth again, 
The blushing « girl thus mildly spoke. 

XXIII. 

" Quamey ! — I thank thy friendly care, 
Which fain your sports would bid me share,- 
And fondly lull each painful sense 
Of errant fancy roving hence. 



61 



Nor am I wont to be the lag 

Where pleasure threads her circling maze,- 
Nor apt my spirits thus to flag 

When such as Quamey chants her praise: 
But now thy art alike were vain 
To wake to mirth or banish pain ; — 
This sudden change^ from deepest woe 

To bliss unfettered, wild and free, 

Extremes too adverse blends, for me, 
Unmoved, to bear the mighty throe, — 

As yet too new to liberty. 
And I have friends ; " — but with the word, 

Speech on her quivering lips expired ; 
That thought each dormant sorrow stirr'd, 

And every nerve with anguish fired. 
She could no more ; — the burning tear 

Which long had strove to force a way 
From its bright source, and struggled there, 

As yet unbid to part or stay, 
Now fell ; — that signal quashed the truce 

Which hailed Retention's feeble power ; 
Wide opened now each pearly sluice, — 

Down trickled fast the briny shower. 

XXIV. 

So, when the Dog-star rages high — 
Some sudden tempest fills the sky ; 
Thick gloom o'er all the welkin lours, 
And down the watery deluge pours. — 



62 



So have I seen from mountain tarn 

The wintry torrent sweeping down,— 
Till 'twixt some narrow gulley borne, 

Where rocks in stern defiance frown, 
And shattered boughs with sedgy grass 
Entwining thick dispute the pass ; — 
Encumbered by its own rude spoils, 
The wrathful current foams and boils, — 
Now draws fresh levies from its source, 
And rushes on with double force ; 
Now swells and spreads, — but all in vain, 
The rebel branches still restrain ; 
Till, spreading far and near dismay, 
The slimy mass at length gives way : — 
Down comes at once the gathered store, — 
Woods, waves and rocks tumultuous roar ; 
From the black surge thick vapours rise, 
And new-formed clouds obscure the skies. 



XXV. 



"Now, by my troth," the bard replied, 
" Fair maiden, thou hast spoken well ; 

Nor need is there that thou should'st hide 
Those falling drops, which best may quell 
The risen grief, and truly tell 

What noble feelings lurk below 

Those heaving shrines of ebon glow." 



63 



Then up he sprang, with ready zeal, 
To lead her from the prying gaze 
Of public eye ; — for ne'er did grace 
A prouder form, so kind a soul, — 
More prompt with sorrow to condole, 
Or listen to the mild appeal 

From Beauty's eye ; — but needless here 
A trophy to his worth to rear, — 
The minstrel's heart will ever feel.— 
And where is Demba ? — prompt as true, 
That instant from the crowd he 'drew, 
And to the weeping damsel flew : 
And as he clasped his Yabba dear, 
And kissed away each falling tear, 
His manly breast convulsive heaved 

With many a sob of kindred woe ; — 
And thus in unison they grieved, 

Each heart returning th' other's throe ; — 
Till, ceased at length these mournful rites, 

A tribute sad to memory paid, 
The minstrel's strain once more invites, 
And joy retouched the melting maid. 



" Think not, fond maiden, 

On grief that's past :— 
Too long sorrow-laden, 

Thy morn o'ercast 
With misery's clouds 

Shall brightly rise, 
When the dew that now shrouds 

Hath left thine eyes. 



64 

2. 

Think of thy lover,— 

His faith is thine ; 
He is no rover 

To bid thee pine. 
Where tyrants durst scorn thee, 

Maiden, say, 
Hath he not borne thee 

Thence away ? 



From the black lair where Heirs king sat embowering 
The heart of his Vanholst in insult and wrong, 

Has he not snatched thee, such doom overpowering, 
To live in his bosom all-honoured and long ? — 



Give to his merit 

The tribute due, 
Daring his spirit, — 

He dared for you. 
Live then blessed pair 

Our wilds among ; 
Far hence banish care, — 

Join dance and song." 

XXVI. 

Stung by the sound of Vanholst's name, 
Young Demba felt the rising flame 
Of wrath re-kindling in his breast, — 
And all the demon shone confessed. 



65 

That sudden spark of jealous ire 

His friend observed — the aged chief; 
Nor willing he to fan the fire 

Of memory's now fast-fading grief; — 
And thus he breathed his mild command,- 
" Quamey ! forbear ; — thy master-hand 
Too truly strikes that tender string 
Whence all our subtlest feelings spring ;— 
Each secret pang thy art can tell, 
And passion's source find out too well. 
But quit we now the mournful strain, 
Nor pleasure mix with needless pain ; 
Let Vanholst rest, accursed by all, 
And retribution on him fall 
In God's own time : — now be it ours 

To give a loose to festive joy, 
Till Night draw off her dingy powers, — 
And, soaring to his station high, 
The Day-star gild the eastern sky." 

XXVII. 

He said, — and raised a brimmer high, 
Fraught with pure essence of the cane,- 
Dire foe to sorrow's gloomy reign ; 
And as it met the longing eye 
Of his mute bard, he thus resumed : — 
" Be recollection here entombed ! — 
Now quaff this juice, whose magic power 
Bequeaths to song a richer dower ; — 



66 



Warm from the heart, thy odorous muse 

A brighter halo shall diffuse. 

6 Health to the minstrel ! ' — send it round ; "- 

6 Health to the minstrel ! ' all resound ; — 

Woods, wilds and dells repeat the strain, 

And sleeping Echo wakes again. 

The minstrel's thanks are poured in smiles,— 

And as he takes the proffered cup, 
With feigned reluctance' pleasing wiles, 

Just seems to pause, — then drinks it up. 
Flushed with the draught, his ravished soul 
Mid-ether flies, and spurns control : — 
Again he sweeps the bonja's strings, 
And rapture to his bosom springs, — 
While round him wheel the sportive throng, 
Not less inspired by dance and song ; — 
Each heart with phrenzied joy is dight, 
And revelry ekes out the night. 



Readek ! — Once more our circling theme 
Invites Reflection's hallowed gleam ; 
A soul-like aid, — a heaven-snatched ray, 
To guide us cheerly on our way. 



67 



Nor can we at this stated rest 
More aptly treat the angel-guest, 
Than by its clear and steady light 
To pierce the shades of Pagan night, 
And yon long-promised dawn espy 
Where Truth her standard rears on high, 
And Earth's full choir their voices raise 
Spontaneous to Emmanuel's praise. — 
Late have we seen the Outlaw throng 
Rude banqueting their wilds among ; 
With unrestrained, though peaceful, glee 
Carousing all to ' liberty.' 
Nor would we with ascetic speech 

Those bursts of reckless joy condemn, — 
Or frame a rule which could not reach 

(Untaught by Grace Divine) to them. 
Our God is just ; — but Time will be, 

Nor distant is the happy hour, 

When far and near — through brake and bower, 
Hesperia's tawny race shall see 
All-conquering Truth's unclouded day 
Diffusing its seraphic ray : — 
Negro no more, save but in hue 
External, he shall triumph too, 
O'er Wrong and Prejudice, — o'er Sin, 
And fadeless crowns of glory win. 
Far different then the impulse bland 

Which prompts to festive glee his soul ; 
Far other joys will then demand 

His transports, and possess him whole. 



68 

That mind, so long encased in gloom, 
Shall then its inborn light display ; 
And, quick from apathetic tomb 

Up-springing, greet its kindred day. 
All hail the time ! — for good 'twill be, 
Such wonder-working change to see ; — 
For worse than death such heavenly life 
Imparted, with salvation rife ; 
For grief such bliss, — for heathen thrall 
Such liberty transforming-all ; 
For tyrant ire, for hate and scorn, 
Such universal suffrage borne 
To Negro worth, — a rescue given 
From all that's Hell to all that's Heaven. 
Nor speak we dreams, — nor do we here 
A visionary fabric rear ; 
E'en now the hour, as fixed on High, 
Of consummation draweth nigh ; 
E'en now the dawn of promised day 
Steals swiftly on its gladsome way, — 
And streaks of pure celestial light 
Break up the reign of hellish night. 
Already to the distant goal 
Where Phoebus sheds his parting dole 
The heralds of salvation fly, 
And sound the watch- word a liberty ! " — 
On rapid wings of love upborne, 
They celebrate the angel-morn, — 
Reiterating now as then, 
6 Glad tidings to the sons of men.' 



69 



Nor there alone ; — from West to East, 

From North to South, the joyful sound 
Invites to beatific feast 

The soul-impoverished nations round. 
One holy impulse, free a as strong, 
The mighty welcome bears along ; 
Through every sin-sick child of woe 
Diffusing its alchymic glow. — 
From rugged Greenland's h dark domain — 

For ever clad in wintry stole, 
To Polynesia's coral c train, — 

From Ind to Ind, — from Pole to Pole, 
The voice of heavenly mercy cries, 
And hymns of praise responsive rise. — 
Lo ! where in bright prospective we 
The glad millennial crisis see ; — 
The iron reign of sorrow's past, — 
Hosannas ride on every blast ; 
Sin, Death and Hell are prostrate hurl'd, 
And joy relumes our ransomed world : — 
"Haste, Lord, the hour! " — be this our prayer- 
Join every heart our suit to share. 



NOTES 

TO 

PAET SECOND. 



STANZA I. 

a, — The metrical appellation we have thought fit to assign 
to the rendezvous of the runaway Negroes in the Bush. — 
In consequence of the severities exercised by the Dutch 
Planters during the long period that these colonies were 
in their possession, hundreds of Negroes fled from time 
to time into the interior, and established settlemeDts of 
their own. As might have been expected, however, 
Nature's ' lex talionis' was too active a principle to allow 
them to sit down quietly in their little plantations, 
without molesting their old oppressors; and these 
( Border Raids ' (if they may be so called) of the Negroes 
gave rise to a series of Bush expeditions on the part of 
the Whites, not unfrequently resulting in inglorious 
defeat, for the purpose of capturing or exterminating the 
plunderers. — On one of these nefarious adventures, 
yclept ' nigger-hunts,' the present story is founded. 

STANZA II. 

a. — ' De jure,' at least, though not <de facto.' 
b. — White man. 

STANZA III. 

a. — Manioc, or cassada, — a beautiful looking plant, from 
the root of which the Negroes prepare a kind of bread. 
There are two sorts, the black and the white ; the latter 
being usually roasted like the plantain. 



71 

ft.— A viscous vegetable, chiefly used in soups. 

c. — Guiana being a low flat country, wherever planta- 
tions are formed, be they large or small, dams and 
canals are always necessary. 

STANZA IV. 

a. — The name given to the head or chief man of the tribe. 

STANZA V. 

a. — The estates in Guiana are nearly all laid out in the 
form of parallelograms or trapezoids : those on the 
river (with which we are more immediately concerned) 
have the Buildings in front, including, besides the or- 
dinary erections for the manufacture of produce, the 
manager's and overseer's houses, sick-logee, &c. together 
with either a semicircular or trilateral range of Negro 
huts, of sufficient capacity to form domiciles for a gang 
of 4, 5 or 600, as the case may be, at the rate of six or 
eight individuals to each. The rear-boundary of the 
estate, adjacent to the Bush, is called the back-dam, 
generally from four to six miles distant from the build- 
ings ; and running at right-angles to it, are the two side- 
lines or embanked pathways with their accompanying 
drain-canals. The side-lines are connected at con- 
venient distances by transverse pathways ; and these 
are intersected by the middle-walk and grand-canal, 
from which last diverge at similar intervals navigable 
canals for the more conveniently transmitting the crops. 
The two drain-canals, and also the centre or grand- 
canal, are terminated at their river-extremities by 
1 kokers,' or large sliding-doors, for the purpose of letting 
out or taking in water as occasion may require. 
b. — In the rainy season, when the estates are in danger of 
being flooded, either from the river or the swamps in 



72 



the Bush, it is customary for a stout Negro (sometimes 
two or three) to perambulate the grounds during the 
night, for the purpose of seeing that the dams and 
kokers are secure, to repair any trivial breach, or report 
progress — if further assistance be necessary. 

STANZA VII. 
a. — The Bush or runaway Negroes. 

STANZA VIII. 

a. — The trooly and manicole are dwarf species of the 
palm, used chiefly for wattling the Negro houses. The 
stalk of the latter when peeled and well boiled, is a good 
substitute for cabbage. 

b. — From the French ' crapaud' ; the name given by the 
Negroes to the huge frogs which tenant the fens and 
water-courses of Guiana. 

STANZA IX. 

a. — This expression, though seemingly over-strained, is 
substantially correct. There are pathways through some 
parts of the Bush, but they are extremely narrow, and 
in most places unobservable to the eye of such as have 
not previously traced them with a guide. It must like- 
wise be born in mind, that Demba not being practically 
acquainted with the route to any of the Bush encamp- 
ments, would be very likely to diverge ; in which case 
he would have literally to fight his way, and the des- 
cription given would thus be fully borne out. 

b. — Or American tiger; — the description that follows is not 
altogether imaginary, for though the animal in question 
commits sad depredations among the sheep and hogs of 
the plantations, I believe there is no instance on record 
of its ever attacking a human-being ; at least so far as 
I have either heard or enquired. 



73 



STANZA XI. 

a. — The daily flight of the parrot is one of the most strik- 
ing natural phenomena which these regions afford : 
proceeding every morning in regular pairs from the Bush 
to the cultivated grounds in search of food, and return- 
ing a little before sun-down. Their transit generally 
occupies about an hour each time ; and the deafening 
screams from this countless host must be heard, or 
rather felt, to be duly appreciated. 

STANZA XIV. 

a. — Oby-men. — Jumbee is the Odin or Pluto of the 
Negroes : in a lower sense, it signifies a ghost or spirit. 

STANZA XIX. 

a. — If the indulgent reader will fancy to himself the pe- 
culiar sound issuing from a furnace or other large fire, 
he will arrive at our best apology for the use of this 
somewhat anomalous phrase. 

STANZA XX. 

a. — The writer wishes it to be clearly understood, that he 
feels no participation in the sentiment here put into the 
mouth of the Bush chieftain 5 and refers the reader, for 
a sufficient explanation, to the latter part of Stanza 
VIII of Part First. 

STANZA XXI. 

a, — Most probably rum, or rum sangaree. 

6. — Those who have witnessed the African dances will re- 
quire no comment on what is here written ; and those 
who have not, must be content with the following, — 
that they are a compound of every thing that is ( outre/ 
H 



74 



c.—The bonja, or African guitar, is constructed of two 
slight pieces of bamboo, fixed into the convex side of a 
half-calabash, and extended at the top like the letter V; 
across these are strings of various lengths, which pro- 
duce the requisite gamut. When played, the performer, 
who is usually in a sitting posture, places the hollow 
part of the calabash on his breast, rocking his body 
violently, and singing lustily at the same time. Like 
the Celtic ' bhairdhf or Italian ' improvisatore,' the 
minstrel's effusions are mostly extempore. 

SONG. 

a. — Wicked, good-for-nothing. 

b. — Friend, companion. — The concluding lines of these 

Stanzas are a fair specimen of the full chorus which 

usually rounds off the Negro ditties. 

STANZA XXII. 

a. — However paradoxical it may seem, the writer ventures 
to assert that a Black girl's blushes are visible, 

SUPPLEMENT. 

a , — Who will have all men to be saved. — 1st. Tim. II. 4. 

Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely. — 

Rev. XXII. 17. 
b, — The Christian reader need hardly be reminded that 

Greenland was one of the earliest fields of Protestant 

Missionary labours. 
c— In allusion to the beautiful coral reefs with which the 
greater number of these islands are encircled. 



DEMBA 



PART THIRD 



* Away ! away ! — the deer hath fled, 

The timid hind hath left her lair ; 
The scent lies yet upon their tread, 

And sweetly taints the morning air. — 
Lay on the hounds ; — now, huntsmen all, 
Dash merrily o'er steep and fall : — 
Hark ! follow, hark !— our reveille 
Give, give the rein ; — away ! away ! ' — 
Such, in effect, (allowing first 
For sentiment and scene reversed 
All needful change) the gathering-yell 
That wildly burst from Vanholst fell, 
When to his ear, at earliest dawn, 
With haggard looks and piteous wail, 
Myallah bore the direful tale 
Of Demba and of Yabba gone. 



76 
II. 



" Gone ! " — but that quick and horrid pang 

What pen may write, — what tongue can tell ? 
How analyse the wildering clang 

Of passion, — or to purpose dwell 
On that biforked Tartarean fire, 
Fierce flashing there, — surprise and ire ? — 
One moment o'er his palsied frame 
The mischief- working demon threw 
A flickering veil of ashen hue ; — 
Thick clammy drops his cheeks bedew, — 
His freezing pulse omits its beat ; 
Back to their cold contractile seat 
The purple streams of life retreat, — 
And being's self from crumbling throne 
Seems just in act to topple down : — 
The next — the broad resistless flame 
Rides horrent o'er his arch-ed brow, 
Each orb with madness glowing now. 
His blackened veins dilating wide 
Once more convey the rushing tide ; — 
Speech lies enchained ; — but from his throat 
Hoarse choking grunts escaping, note 
Right legibly the foul intent 
On which his iron soul is bent. 
Lo ! where with mouth half-ope he stands, 
In act to breathe his dire commands ; 
One foot advanced — as he would rush 
That instant through opposing Bush 3 



77 



And seize the fugitives ; — one hand 

Grips with wild force the trembling slave 

Whose tongue the sad recital gave ; 
The other, as by magic wand 
Impelled — or strange Galvanic touch, 

He sudden lifts with gesture rude, — 
Smites his dank forehead, and with clutch 

Convulsive, where, profusely strewed, 

The big round dew-drops clustering stood, 
His gray locks seizes ; — dashing then 

Aside the luckless driver, he 
With one wild oath springs from his den, 

And raves and stamps in agony. 

III. 

" Gone !— how ?— when?— where ? "—but who shall give 

These pithy queries due response ? — 
Too anxious for their scheme to live 

Beyond a callow thought, not once 
Had Demba or his faithful bride 
Their purpose broached to aught beside. 
Short time indeed had they for talk ; 

And when by stealth they did agree 
To rendezvous in yonder walk, — 

To 'scape the Buckra's grasp, and flee — 
'Twas less by words than signs they spoke; 
A nod, a look, distinctly broke 
To either mind the daring feat, 
And mode devised for safe retreat. 



78 



Nor less clandestine choice had they, — 

Nor durst they e'en to friends betray 

Their plans for their sake ; — 'sooth, to say 

One word at parting — should the fact 

Be known, involved no less an act 

Of guilt, and would on such draw down 

Infallibly the tyrant's frown, — 

Unless all fled ; — and Demba knew 

Full well, of all his mates but few 

Or none that risk would run, or roam 

In exile from their native home. 

True, they were missed, — but not by him 

Whose ire they shunned — the Allah grim ;- 

And who beside, of old or young, 

Would give to their suspicion tongue, — 

Or passing guess untimely tell 

To Yanholst's ear ? — none ; — all too well 

The couple loved, — too fixed the hate 

They bore to him whom ruthless Fate 

Set o'er them, uncompelled, to be 

His 6 gens-d'oreille,' or needlessly 

The panders to his cruelty. 

IV. 

" Gone ! " — yes, that fact beyond dispute 
Is shewn; — but how, or when, or where, 

As urged in Buckra's frantic suit, 
The gaping serf might not declare. 



79 



He might not, for he could not ;-^-till, 

Obedient to the wakening clang 

Of matin «-bell, the "up-roused gang 
Had passed the dam, no thought of ill 

His bosom crossed : — and when ' for true ' h 

On inquiry the thing he knew, 

He did as we have seen him. do, 

And duty prompted, — instant sped 

Where lay his slumbering lord a-bed, 
And, trembling, craved the Allah's will. 
" Search ; — quick ! " — 'tis done, — and dire the rout : 
Plantation, logee, ' ail-about ' c 
They hunt ; — alas ! their search is vain, — 
For though they hunt and hunt again, 
Their only meed is toil and pain. 
" Call in the gangs ! " — that too is done; — 
All home the wondering Negroes run, — 
And congregate, a dingy mass, 
Around the hall of tyrant Bas. 



V. 



Behold him there, — with rapid march 

Encircling his veranda high, — 
As just returned from bootless search 

Of fugitives, — his small gray eye 
Twinkling with rage, — his visage keen, 
(Fit emblem of the haggard scene 
Through which he moves,) — his every limb 
Quick moving with contortions grim. 



80 



He raves, he storms : — so, far away, 

Where Ganges rolls his sacred store, 
And Brama's spacious groves display 

Their fakired dells, — with hideous roar, 
The tigress, cheated of her young, 

Bounds frantic from her rushy lair ; 
Her jaws wide-stretched, — her pendent tongue, 

Besprent with blood and foam, despair 
Speaks fearfully ; — she snuffs the ground, 
To catch the scent, and round and round 
The desolated jungle springs ; — 

Then through the flickering brake espies 

Some fancied form, — away she flies ; 
Love, rage, despair, all lend her wings, 
And bear her through the thicket strong, 

Till, balked, she turns, — and here and there 
At random scours the reeds among ; — 

Then back once more like lightning where 
Her cubs she left, — with hoarser cry 
Proclaims her finished misery, — 
Runs round her den, and, still in vain, 
Acts the same phrenzy o'er again. 

VI. 

Now wending to the front, where stand 
Submissively with hat in hand, 
At foot of stairs, his drivers three, 
The Allah pauses suddenly ; — 



81 



Then, rising to his utmost height 

Erect, with true Hollandic air, 
Calls forth by name each luckless wight 

Who kindred bore the absent pair, — ■ 
Points to the well-known dreaded ring, « 

Disfigured with unnumbered dents, 
And bids Myallah hither bring ' 

His flagellating implements. — 
Ah ! there they go, — that martyr-train, 

Some round half-score of either sex ; h — 
Untutored he his ire to reign, 
Or entrance let soft pity gain ; — 

Nor youth, nor age, nor sex protects. 
Not so their mates ; — throughout the throng 

A faint indignant murmur ran, 
Increasing as it trilled along 

In rapid round from man to man. 
He heard it not ; — or if he did, 

That sound no thought of fear inspired ; 
Long habit had so aptly slid 

Their wills in his, that it required 
No spell those murmurs to allay 
But Vanholst's voice ; — plain truth to say, 
First word from him bade faction cease, 
And stilled the murmurers into peace. 

VIL 

" Now minions, on the instant tell 

Where sculk those wretches ! — ye must know." 



82 



" We know not, Allah,"—" No !— ah,— well ; 
Your curried hides a the truth will show. 

Myallah ! " — at the signal, three 

Poor helpless ones are prostrate thrown, — 
To parent Earth pinned firmly down, 

And writhe beneath the cart- whip : — see ! 

(Disgusting sight) where, head to heel, 

Yon group a tyrant's vengeance feel ; 

Each driver one ;— but who are they, 

With shrivelled limbs and locks of gray, 

Lie outstretched there ? — we shame to say ; 

Nor need we, — what the Muse has told, 

Will prove sufficient to unfold 

Whate'er of doubt the curious mind 

May fancy still remains behind. 

Like Grecian picture, there are woes 

'Twere better only half disclose : 

Words might disgust, display would fail, 

But eloquence speaks through the ' veil. ' 

One word alone ; — had Yabba dreamed, 
Or Demba, of the fearful sight 

On which that morning's sunlight gleamed, 
They would have stayed their purposed flight, 
And calmly bore, as best they might, 

For friends so dear, each piercing throe 

Of many-coloured ceaseless woe. 

VIII. 

That wretched triplicate released, 
Their place is filled by other three ; 



83 



And then another leash ; — nor ceased 

The angry Bas his cruelty, 
Till all he deemed, or more or less, 
The runagates' accomplices, 
Had by a like consignment dire 
Succumbed to his capricious ire. 
But what avails it ? — from that band 

Of sufferers not a word is wrung 
In un'son with their lord's demand ; — 

Despite the whip, no light is flung 
On Demba's exit, — for which lack 
Of insight to the wanderers' track, 
Sufficient reason has been given ; — 
In secret had the couple riven 
Their manacles accursed, and so 
Their mattees a o'er their schemes could throw 

No ray explanatory ; — in 

One breath our point accomplishing, — 
(To quote their plea) — they did not know. 

IX. 

They guessed, 'tis true ; — nay more, by fair 

Deduction, they could all but say 
What shelter housed the absent pair, 

And through what tract their journey lay ; — 
For more than once, in time gone by, 
Like flights from Vanholst's tyranny 
Had taken place, — and well they knew, 
From hearsay and experience a too, 



84 



Far in the Bush a daring band 

Lived, free of white man's stern command ; 

And thither they correctly guessed 

The youthful twain had fled for rest. 

But what were guesses ? — what would these 

Avail in angry Allah's ear ? 
Nought, — hut his soul still more to tease, 

And fierce suspicion higher rear. 
Yanholst guessed too, — nor needed he 
Much light the galling truth to see : — 

Schemes of revenge ; but while his soul 

Is drinking in the murderous dole, 

Lo ! prancing down the middle-walk, 

Engaged in noisy guttural talk, 

Two neighbouring Bas' ; — a goodly sight, — 

Hintzen and Mittelholzer hight. 

X. 

" Send back the gangs, ho ! — boy ! bring snap « ; — 

Cigars, here ! — take the Buckras' steeds. 
Now, heers, what unexpected hap 

Has brought you hither ? " — " Troth ! there needs 
Short wonderment ; — Yanholst, thy fame 
Has reached the Geldt-lust, h — and we came 
To pledge thee in a bumper." — " Hum ! 
Thy pledge deserves a better ; — come, 
Here's one our deepest welcome craves, — 
Drink all ; — c those donder hoonds, our Slaves'." 
'Tis drank, — and through the Allah's hall 
A wild unearthly halloo rings ; 



85 

Each rankling heart lets forth its gall :- 
'Tis dire uproarious babble all ; — 
While o'er the scene his venomed pall 

Lo ! alcoholic Madness flings. — 
Poor spectral Reason stands aghast, 
Affrighted at the fiendful blast ; 
One flickering moment deigns to stay,- 
Then dons her plumes, and flits away. 



XL 

That drained, — a score of kindred breed 
And gist, in rapid course succeed : — 
But stay we here, — nor follow through 
Their orgies vile that drunken crew ; — 
From gin and smoke a scent so strong 
Exhales, as almost stifles song. 
Then off, at humble distance, we 
Will wait their finished drunkery ; 
And, just in brief, report meanwhile 
(The passing moments to beguile) 
Such heads of talk as need may deem 
Best fitting our eventful theme. — 
Hark ! — Bas recounts his angry say ; — ■ 
A pause ; — and now, in chorus they 
Vent mingled curses ; — once again 
Vanholst assumes the speaking-rein, 
And roars "Revenge ! " — with cordial greet , 
The others his proposal meet : — 

i 



86 

" A Bush-maraud ! " — " Agreed,— -agreed." 
But ere that thought can change to deed, 
A FiscaPs warrant must be had, 
And Bucks a procured. 

XIL 

a Ho ! Quaco, lad ! 
Send Sambo here ! " — lo ! there he stands, 
And waits the Allah's dread commands. 
u Man the tent-corial a ; — quick ! " — 'tis done ; — 
Sits oar-in-hand each mother's son : — 
One bumper snap, the rest to crown, — 
Then to the stelling * stagger down 
That beastly triad, post' for Town. 

" For Amsterdam, ho ! " off they go ; — 

The parting waters hiss below, — 

Around the slender vessel coil 

And bubble as in act to boil. 

The creak and splash of nimble oar 

Reverberate from shore to shore; 

While up the stream on either side 

The river-banks deceitful glide, 

And wood-nymphs' shadows thrown askance 

The troubled surface lightly dance: 

" Hurra ! hurra ! " the helmsman's cry, — 

" Ya, ya," — the rowers' shrill reply : 

" Give measure, soce c ! " — the crew obey, 

And up they heave a roundelay. 



87 
i. 

" Pull, ho ! 

The brine-flow 
Is ebbing fast ; — 

Down yonder steep, 

The ripples creep, — 
Half-mark a is past. 

(Chor.) — Pull away ho! — pull bru ; b 
Let White man see what Black can do. 



See, ashore, 

The corricor c 
Awaits her meal ; 

And harshly by, 

The spurwing'sd cry 
Relumes our zeal. 

(Chor.) — Pull away, ho ! — pull bru; 

Soon shall the Heerstadt e ope to view." 

XIII. 

Strange it may seem, — that, with such weight 

Of aggregated grief and wrong 
Their hearts oppressing, men could freight 

Their bosoms still with blythesome song, — 
Or but one feeling deep and dire 
Of just and retributive ire 
Conceive, while 111 in every form 
Poured on their heads its ruthless storm :— 



88 



But so it was ; — and we must view 
The thing as not more strange than true ; 
A proof that Man, whate'er his caste, 
Hath something that outrides the blast 
Of human wrongs,— a proof that he 
In soul at least is ever free, 
Howe'er debased, — and, though a Slave,. 
Retains the spark his Maker gave. 
Mimosa «-like, though Joy and Peace 

Had withered in Oppression's hand. 
Their lurking virus did not cease 
The captive's spirit still to ease ; 

But still impregned his vitals, and 
On apt occasions, such as this, 
Would thrill him with a transient bliss* 

XIV. 

There is within the Negro soul 
A dash of native buoyancy, 

A generous frankness, — which the stole- 
Thick, black and close of Slavery, 

Wherein that soul so long immured 

Hath been, has never quite obscured. — 

That long ill-usage has in part 
Impaired his intellectual force, 

We do not gainsay ;— as the smart 
Of virulent disease in course 

Of time would dim the brightest mind,, 

And scatter genius to the wind ; 



89 

But underneath that clayey vest 

The germ lies still, a heavenly guest, — 

And needs but that th* affianced « Word 

Of Europe's federate rulers — late 

To pity roused for Negro's state, 
Should time and fitting chance afford, — 

To shew to unbelieving eyes 
How far above his Buckra lord 

In true noblesse the Black may rise. 

XV. 

So, buried in sepulchral gloom, 

Unheeded lies the royal gem, — 
Till, rescued from its rocky tomb, 

And polished, — from the diadem 
Of czar or schah it blazes forth 
In the full glare of native worth. 
So mingled with impure alloy — 

And valueless, lies deep in earth 
The grasping miser's glittering joy, 

Till active effort gives it birth, — 
Up calls from foul Oblivion's night, 
To deck the works of Art, — or, dight 
With royal impress, far and wide 
To pour along the moneyed tide. 
So, yet again, from higher source 

Illustrative device to draw, 
God's Word the doctrine would enforce — 



90 



Too little conn'd by human law, 
' Base things, and things despised, shall bring 

To nought the haughty things that are/ — 
Transfix the eagle on the wing, 

Or mount in turn the conqueror's car. 

XVI. 

There is upon the water too 

A magic softness, which, apart 
From all extraneous cause, a clue 

Of symp'thy to the roughest heart 
Fails not to furnish ; — thus we see 
All grades of rowers, bond or free, 
White, red or black — by Art untaught, 
Or clad in rhyme each chastened thought; — ■ 
As well the scout whose bateau glides 
Adown St. Lawrence' rapid tides, 
As he whose bark on Ganges swims, 
Or Orinoco's waters skims, — 
Or Thames' rude tars, or Gaelic a seer, 
Or Adriatic gondolier, — 
Uniting, though in varied lays, 
The shrill instinctive chant to raise. — 
Spirit, arouse thee ! — from the grave 

Of by-gone years call back the time 
When couched upon Berbicean wave — 

A wanderer in that fervid clime, 
Thy tiny shallop ' good and true ' 
The tortuous waste curvetted through ; — 



fLofC. 



91 



What bliss was thine ! — what hallowed thrill 
Thy deathless essence then would fill ! — 
Oft too at eve, when riding high, 

The Night- queen shed her pallid ray, 
Hath seen us still — her full broad eye 

Careering on our lonesome way ; — 
And who, but they whose pulses throb 

In un'son, shall presume to tell 

What raptures mdescribable 
Spirit ! were thine, — when, to the sob 
Of river-sprite or seaward breeze 

In fitful eddies sweeping o'er 
The mirror'd deep, — the ceaseless wheeze 

Of parted surge, the distant roar 
Of forest beasts, and measured song, 
Combined to while the hours along r 

XYIL 

Oh then, in thought, o'er earth and sea 

How wildly roved each truant sense ! — 
Or, in the gulph of memory 

Deep plunging, and conjuring thence 
Scenes long gone by, friends long forsook, 
Forgot, or 'rased from being's book, — 
What exquisitely poignant throe 
Wrapt up the little world below ! — 
Return we now ; — see, where reclined 

Beneath the corial's covered way, 
To soporific grasp resigned, 

Our leash of drunkards pass the day : — 



92 



On them hath gin-snap not in vain 

Poured out its filthy benison ; 
Pell-mell they lie, — a senseless train, 

As shameless too as liquor-gone. 
Eased of constraint, the swarthy crew 
Cast off each fear and revel too ; 
While kraal-bas a from secret berth 
The big round gubby * snatches forth, — 
A sneering pledge to * Buckra'. fills, 
And straight the fiery portion swills ; 
Then round among his jaded friends 
The sopy-cup c a-brimming sends. 
Their nerves are braced, — their spirits soar,- 
Loud and more loud the dash of oar ; 
Swift and more swift, the wave upon, 
The graceful vessel rushes on, — 
All but mid-air ; — and hark ! again 
A quicker and a livelier strain 
Ascends. 



1. 



" Ye sprites from Jumbee's hall, 

Come sport around us gaily : 
For one short while poor Nigger thrall 

Is free of white man really. 
Heer Bekka a lies as drunk as hog 

Betwixt his mattees cheerly > 
His eye is closed, — his heart agog 

For hetta-mingies # queerly. 



93 

(Chor.)— Pull away, — ho ! 

My mattees, row,— 
The tide shall serve us fairly, O ; 

Together all 

Your oars let fall, — 
And we'll outrun the brine-flow. 



Bas rides in haste, — and we must hie,- 

Ho ! Nigger-man be steady ; 
Strike out your oars with even ply, 

And be the watch-word — c ready.' 
Heer Vanholst roams in search of wife, — 

But he shall never get her ; 
Our sissy c-0 hath pledged her life, 

And fled a-Bush with better. 

(Chor.) — Then, pull away, 

My mattees gay ; 
O'erwining^ pier we're passing now : 

Stadt-stelling, e lo ! — 

Back-water, ho ! — 
Hurra ! for Bekka's jilt-vrow./" 

XVIII. 

" Hip ! Allah, — ho ! — ens'comata, a " — 
In tones that might have borne the bell 

From classic Stentor — famed for jaw, 
Bawled kraal -bas ; — his thick lips well 

Nigh fastened to his master's ear ; — 



94 



" Ya, ya ; — verdomt h ! — heer Hintzen ! — heer 
Mitt'holzer, man ! " — but here, a thwack 

On pitching corial's broadside, from 
A produce-punt, laid on its back 

The incoherence yet to come, — 
And with it Vanholst : — at the shock, 

Up start with gutturals loud and dire — 
Like fragments from the sounding rock 

When rent by pyrotechnic ire, 
The angry white men,— forcing through 
The trellised screen, — and, full in view 
Of grinning loungers, clamouring still 
'Twixt every oath — " Snaps, snaps, man ! — fill. " 

XIX. 



And lo ! that freshening stirrup-cup, 
Right potable — of Hollands pure, 
Their scattered senses back to lure, 
Bas Sambo hands ; — they drink it up ; — 
Then up the slimy stelling- stair, 
With such ' posterioral ' air 
As real Dutch are wont to show, 
Lank Indian-file a the Allans go, — 
Or rather scramble ; — for, a-top, 
Where rests the stage on stalwart prop, 
Two brawny Slaves with giant grasp 
Hold on the portly Buckras' van ; 
Two more a-low the rear-guard clasp, 
While two up-bear the middle man ; — 



95 

And who is he ? — (Pierian Maid ! 

Be every honour duly paid) ; 

Who but Vanholst ? — theme of our song, 

Fit nucleus of the vulgar throng ; — 

More ireful, more inebriate, — but 

There needeth not that we should now 
Assail him : — 'twixt unwieldy jut, 

And push, and pull, and wordy row, 
Each doubly-aided blatant heer 
In safety gains the level pier. 
There let them stand a breathing space, 
While we a glance throw round the place.- 

XX. 

Rarest of sights, — whoe'er has seen 
A tropic town, will scarce forget 

The impress which its dazzling sheen 
Upon his mental visage set, — 

When, for the first time, after long 
And tedious travel o'er the waste 
Of waters wild — or desert&4raced 

By lion's paw, he viewed among 

Palm forests rising, fresh and fair, 

The garden #-city debonair. 

Costumes may differ, — diverse too 
Tastes, habits, feelings, and so forth \ 

Some scenes may don a gayer hue, 
As varied as their real worth 

Or import in commercial eye \ 



96 

But over all there is a dye 

Of sympathy, which cannot fail- 
To raptured gazer to display 

The super-lustrous sunny trail 
That gilds the equatorial way. 

The same rich garb of living green 

From thousand shrubs wide-spreading round,- 

Tall fruit-trees scattered thick between, 
With orange, mango, shaddock crowned, 

x\nd all the rich and beauteous host 

Which zodiacal regions boast : — 

The same hilarious glow of life, 

From lordling big to meanest thrall ; 

The same unceasing eager strife 
To revel out existence all. 

XXI. 

See, from yon fort, where Canje® creek 

Evolves its waters, — up the stream 
As far as straining eye can seek 

A resting point, — what countless team 
Of beings, dight with every hue 
'Twixt white and black (a piebald crew) 
Incessant hurrying up and down, 
The long projecting stellings crown, — 
As busy, if the semblance please, 
As Dido's serfs, 6 or hive of bees ! — 
Some from the vessels — close moor'd there. 
Long planks of fir on shoulder bear ; 



97 



Some heave around, to chanting jo, 
The creaking windlass c cheerly O ' ; 
Some puncheons roll, — while others guide 
Along the rail the rumbling slide ; 
Sea-captains here, rough planters there, 
And bustling store-men c everywhere. 
Yon', — Allah, wrapt in self-conceit, 
Gives to his bondmen orders meet, 
Mixed up with oaths : — perched up hard by. 

On sugar-cask or cotton-bale, 
With pen in hand and hawk-like eye, 

The active clerk runs up the tale 
Of imports, exports ; — while a troop 

Of huckst'resses, in snow-white gear 

And jet-black skins, on either pier 
Mincing, complete the motley group. 

XXII. 

Thus far the stellings ; — while at foot 

Of each, a crowd of river-craft — 
Punts, bateaux, corials, in dispute 

For place, — some laden fore and aft 
With tropic produce, — others bare, 
At idle ease curvetting there, 
Give to the scene a zest ' piquant ' 
Well worthy picturesque ' gourmand,' — ■ 
A finished touch, a e coup-de-grace ' 
Unrivalled : — such as burly Bas 
Might rhapsodize on, — could his soul 

K 



98 

One moment doff the fierce control 
Of those twin tyrants — Lust and Pelf, 
Which chained him down, — a slave to ' self. ' — 
Direct we now a hasty glance 

Along the dam or public way ; — 
What see we there ? — imprimis, prance 

And pirouette in trappings gay 
A file of nags, from Yankee sloop 
Just landed, and tricked out to dupe 
Horse-fancying heer : — incessant ply 
The droschkies,° — to the baffled eye 
Of impudence displaying there 
Smart samples of the close -veiled fair. 
Some distance up, abreast the store 

Where yonder glittering sign-board swings, 
A knot of brawling tars ashore. 

Strike long and loud the jarring strings 
Of discord, — with a brisk posse 
Of dienders h battling it away. — 
Nor pass we here what more than all 

Demands our fixed and serious gaze, — 
Our gaze abhorrent, which must call 
(In syrup' thy with the suffering thrall) 

Each spark indignant up, and raze 
At once of lightsome mould whate'er 
Muse errant hath been pleased to rear, 

XXIII. 

I mean the Vendue «: — thither, where 
That iron gate with dungeon air 



99 



Half-ope its massy form displays, 

Mark well what plodding numbers wend ! — 
Within its bourne the lingering rays 

Of pity shine not ; — there, no friend — 
Overt or covert, of the Slave, 
Exerts the purpose bland to save 
From grinding Misery's fellest clutch 
The wretch already wronged so much. 
Cold, calculating, callous, void 

Of every soft redeeming throe, 
The feelings are of those employed 

In this accursed traffic ; — no 
Relenting genius enters there 
To temporize with fiend Despair, 
Or pluck one link from off the chain 
Wherewith he binds his victim- train. 
There, — nearest, most endearing ties 

Are rent, as they had never been ; 
And offered up a sacrifice 

On Mammon's shrine ; — full many a scene 
Of damning horror — such as those 
Who only hear of Negro woes 
Could ne'er conceive, is there displayed, — 
In lines of starkest grief portrayed. 

XXIV. 

Take one for all : — see, reared above 
The puffing a throng — on table-high, 
Conspicuous to the bidders' eye, 



100 

That youthful pair, whom generous Love 
Hath made in heart and purpose one ! 
Long have they loved :■ — and nestled on 
The mother's breast, an infant gage 

Still closer draws the nuptial tie : — 
Availless all ! — the ' hellish rage h 

For gold ' no sense of decency 
Can feel, no other claim admit 
Than that which feeds and strengthens it. 
One lot they stand in ; — and — to do 

Their owner justice, if that lot 
Meet from the buyers sanction due, 

As such are to be sold ; — if not, 
Obstreperous Nature must be dumb, 
And to the golden god c succumb. 
Meantime, in coarse and brutal slang, 

The hammer-man^ recounts each grace 
For which, in men or women gang, 

They hold priority of place. 
u Stout shoveller, heers ! — observe his chest, — 
Huge bars of brass on iron rest : — 
Gay trasher, e this ; — a peerless hand 
At hoe or cutlass, — must command 
A round bid, — with (to crown the view) 
A thriving pickaninny too ; — 
Fine arm, fine leg ;■ — heers ! mark her well, — 
Her charms are irresistible. 
Heer Kreutz ! — speak quick ; — a bargain just,- 
A wife and heir to Vryheid-lust./" — 
With that a laugh, as vile and strong 



101 

As ever shook the sulphur-wall 
Of Pandemomium, round the hall 
In guttural eddies rolls along ; — 
A pause ; — a laugh — another roar, — 
Then on goes business as before. 

XXV. 

Heer Kreutz replies not ; — but a Jew, 

Whose eye hath turned with lustful gaze 
Upon the jet and glossy hue 

Of Ham's poor daughter, — from a maze 
Of thoughts unhallowed, from a train 
Of fancies worthy well the brain 
Of such a lover, starting, — here 
Plucks courage up to interfere ;— 
Rejects the male slave and the child, — 
And for the mother — staring wild 
(As well she might) at such a plan, 
Bids singly and right largely. — Man, 
Whose god is gain, — whose heart is dight 
With no fixed rule of moral right, 
Stops not in crime, — save where the Law 
Her snake-scourge rears ; — but, like the straw 
Which sports upon the bristling tide, 
By every wave is turned aside, — 
Each whirl of guilt all-passive skims, 
And down the fateful current swims. — 
A momentary fidget, — proof 

That conscience, at the lowest ebb 



102 

Of honest impulse, does a loof a 

Still lay to in the complex web 
Of human actions, here ensues : — ■ 
No budding purpose to refuse 
The horrid bid, — but just a stir 

Of nature, an instinctive thrill, 
A tribute which the bad confer 

On Virtue while their cup they swill. 

XXVI. 

The Jew bids up ; — the hammer falls, — 
" Abr'ham ! she's mine : " — and now a scene 

Which baffles eloquence, and palls 
Conception, to the starting een 

Of gazer opes, — befitting well 

So dark a deed and horrible. 

From the poor victim, screaming wild 
With desp'rate grief, a swarthy mute 
(By lengthened habit not less brute 

Than his white master) tears her child ; 

Two others, at behest of Jew, 

Seize on the frantic mother too, — 

And 'mid unhallowed jeer and scoff 

To stye of Levi bear her off. 

And where is he, whose brawny arm 

Should guard the struggling wretch from harm — 

Her spouse affianced ? — does not he 
Rush forward to her rescue ? — no ; 
He moves not, speaks not, groans not, — though 



103 

His limbs are shackle-less — and free 
Is every sense from petrous spell 

Provoked by such Satanic blow. 
He hears, he sees, he ponders well ; 
Yet there he stands — a passive thrall, 
Apparently devoid of gall, — 
Did not those signs to stander-by — 
The curling lip, the lightning eye, 
And frame convulsed, too truly show 
The deathful strife that lurks below. 

XXVII. 

He moves not ; — that, alas ! would be 

The height of frantic foolery ; — 

He speaks not, pleads not ; — here again, 

Right well he augurs speech were vain; — 

He groans not, save in heart,— and there 

Concentrated, pitch-black despair 

Concocts a bolt of murd'rous hate 

And just a revenge, which, soon or late, 

Shall be with dire momentum sped 

On Buckra man's devoted head. 

Beware the hour ! — Vanholst, beware ! — 

Thou go'st to set thine ire in train ; 
To beard in retribution's lair 

The men whom fierce Oppression's reign 
Hath roused to burst their galling chain,- 
To glut revenge : — rash tyrant ! see 
The sword thou whettest pierce not thee. 



104 
XXVIII. 

We left upon Stadt-stelling head 

Our river-group ; — nor shall we here 
Take up again the severed thread 

Of narrative ; — but, from the pier 
To FiscaFs office o'er the way 
Conducting them, just briefly say — 
That, after consultation due 

With that official, needful writ 
Is drawn, empowering all men who 

Felt so disposed to honour it, 
To aid ' the burghers good and true, 

(So ran it) Vanholst, Hintzen, Mit- 
Telholzer,' in their project brave 
Of capturing absconded slave ; 
Of burning or destroying all 
That appertained to outlawed thrall, — 
And to his duty bringing back 
( Hight gallows a -tree) delinquent Black. 
A gift and special message from 

The leaguing Whites forthwith is sent 
To Buck retainer, Captain Tom, — 

Who, as it happ'd, than morn had bent 
His ever-wandering course to Town ; 

x\nd now, with some fifteen or score 

Of copper-coloured natives more, 
Was listless' sauntering up and down 
The dam, — from all extraneous gear 

Save beads and parrots' feathers free, — 



105 

Devoid alike of shame or fear, — 

In all the charms of nudity. 
The terms are fixed ; — and through that night 

The brandy win * must freely flow ; 
The coming morn, at earliest light, 

A-Bush the fierce campaigners go : — 

Six Buckras strong, — the extra three 

Here having entered company ; 
One trusty slave on either White 

To wait, and bear his master's ' eau- 
De-vie' and baggage, — Buck ally, 
And all his train. — Meantime we cry 
To narrative ' a truce,' — while sage 
Reflection points our closing page. 



The man of mind, — for be it known 

To every tyro, he alone 

Is worthy of the name of man, 

Walks through the world with unconfined 
And curious glance, — intent to scan 

Each passing circumstance, and find 
Instruction in whatever is done 
(As Preacher saith) beneath the sun. 



106 

To such a one, — whatever shade 

Of good or ill, of joy or gloom, 

The subject matter may assume, 
No creature's common ; — all are made 
In some sense, as events incline, 
Subservient to his grand design. 
Mind is the pivot whereon turns — 

With such a one, not only all 
The mass of fact that eye discerns, 

Or to which ear is seneschal, 
But every thought, and word, and deed, 
From the same touch-stone doth proceed : 
Light through him shines, — light, not his own, 
But volant from th' Eternal's throne, — 
By prayer obtained, and commune high 
With all-pervading Deity. 
He sees, — but not as others see ; 

He ponders, — but the filthy tide 
Of vulgar prejudices he 

Swims not along with ; — far and wide 
From these his heaven-taught judgment steers, 
Nor ever from ' right reason ' veers. 
His bark may strike ; — some unforeseen 

Contingency may haply rear 
Its rugged pinnacle between 

His inference and its drift, — for ne'er 
Was Man infallible ; but then, 
Unlike in aught to common men, 
His bark, respondent to the shock, 
Bounds nimbly from the shelving rock, — 



107 

Antgeus-like, no hurt sustains, 

But from the stroke new vigour gains. 

Yes, — good it is such minds to view, 

From year to year increasing too 

In number as in lustre : — they 

Are truly bless'd who own the sway a 

Of soul, and — versed in Order's laws, 

For every why a just because 

Can render : — 'twas by such the cloud 

Of selfish sophistry, which long 
Enwrapt as with mephitic shroud 

The glory of the Ethiop throng, 
Was dissipated, and the bright 
Broad star of Freedom gained the height 
It now shines forth from ; — such as these, 
Ungained by plausibilities 
And specious forms, which ever bind 
In chains of proof the vulgar mind, 
Industriously searching through 

The labyrinthic underplot 
Of cause and issue, first to view 

The postulate unwelcome brought — 
' That Slavery, whatever guise 

It take, is prejudicial 
To real good — unjust, unwise, 

And noxious to the common weal ; 
Mars Man's best feelings, — drowns his soul 

In arrogance and self-conceit, — 
Engenders sloth ; — and for this dole 

Of miserv no set-off meet 



108 

Confers ' : — for over all there is 
A dastard garb of cowardice^ — 
A spirit of fear, which, soon or late, 
Must overwhelm and sink the State. 
So fact hath proved h ; — so Wisdom still 
Forewarns against impending ill : — 
Hear her ye nations ! — hear in time, — 
And instant quash this damning crime. 



NOTES 



PART THIRD, 



STANZA IV. 

a. — About five, every morning, the bell is rung, or watch- 
man's horn blown, for the purpose of turning out the 
Negroes to their work ; the head-driver, and with him 
usually an overseer, standing on the dam or other pro- 
minent spot, to count heads, &c. 

b. — A common Negro phrase. 

c. — Ditto, — variously used; in this place it, of course, 
means ' everywhere.' 

STANZA VI. 

a. — Like the Middy's * line, ' or Equinoctial belt, the ring 
here spoken of is, of course, an imaginary one, encom- 
passing a six-by-four feet spot of ground in front of the 
manager's house, sacred (if we may so speak) to the pur- 
poses mentioned in the text ; and, from the frequency 
with which the pins for securing the culprits' hands and 
feet are driven into it, usually exhibiting the appear- 
ances alluded to in the succeeding line. 



no 



b. — Although the hand-stocks, as mentioned in Part 1st. 
was the punishment usually assigned to the female 
slaves, yet, under the Dutch rule, the lash was very 
frequently and unsparingly applied. — Cases are on record, 
too disgusting to be repeated, were it not more fully to 
expose the enormities of Slavery, where even ( enceinte 
women ' have not been spared. 

STANZA VII. 

a. — The writer is fully sensible of the coarseness of this 
phraseology ; but, as c matter-of-fact,' it is more expres- 
sive of the brutality of Slave-holders than any other. 

STANZA VIII. 

a. — A Negro term, — companions, acquaintance, friends. 

STANZA IX. 

a. — Being subjected occasionally to the incursions of the 
Bush marauders. 

STANZA X. 

a. — Snap, or snaps, — a dram. 

b. — The supposed name of an estate. 

STANZA XI. 

a. — The familiar appellation given to the Indians of 
Guiana. All that need be said of them in this place is, 
that, in common with the major part of the South 
American aborigines, they are effeminate in their habits, 
and extremely indolent ; but from the rooted antipathy 



Ill 



they bear towards the Negroes, as well as from their in- 
timate acquaintance with the Bush, and unerring 
sagacity in tracing runaways, they are usually em- 
ployed by the Whites on expeditions of this kind. 

STANZA XII. 

a. — Pron : kra-al ; a large covered canoe, kept exclusively 
for the manager's use. 

b. — Or wharf. 

c. — A colloquial term, (sing, or plur.) comrades, com- 
panions. 

SONG. 

a. — A stout bamboo, frequently stuck into the mud, to 

denote half-tide. 
b. — A Negro contraction for ' broeder,' — brother, 
c. — Or corri-corri ; — a species of gull, of which there are 

the red and the white : large flocks of them are to be 

seen on the mud at ebb-tide, in search of food. 
d. — The spurwing, or water-hen, as it is sometimes called, 

is a species of snipe. 
e. — I. e. — The town where the white people live, 

STANZA XIII. 

a. — The sensitive-plant. 

STANZA XIV. 

a. — Let the memorable League which has been recently 
entered into, for the suppression of the Slave-Trade, be 
religiously maintained, — let the Genius of philanthropy 
have full scope, — and 'we shall see.' 



112 
STANZA XVI. 

a. — Suffice it to observe, that the Gaelic or Celtic mari- 
ners are notoriously addicted to 6 second-sight.' 

STANZA XVII. 

a, — The boatswain Sambo. 

b. — The hollow calabash, so called, used for holding liquor. 

c. — Dram-cup; — invariably a cocoa-nut shell, cut in two. 

SONG. 



a. — The same as i Buckra.' 

b. — Hot-waters, spirituous liquors. 

c. — A term of endearment, — ' sister ; ' usually spoken as 
here written, with the final O appended. 

d. — Overwining, — the name of a coffee-estate adjoining 
New Amsterdam. 

e. — The Government-Pier. 

f. — ' Vrow,' or frau, — a Dutch word, signifying (at least in 
Berbicean acceptation) wife, woman, or sweet-heart ; 
6 jilt' is English, and the two simples here form a com- 
pound which requires no further illustration. 



STANZA XVIII. 

a. — Creole Dutch, — ' we are arrived.' 

&. — A Dutch oath, almost necessary in this place to depict 

character ; concerning which, however, the writer must 

needs subjoin — * the fewer the better.' 



113 

STANZA XIX. 

a. — I. e. — One after another ; the phrase is of course de- 
rived from the manner in which the Indians, on their 
war or hunting expeditions, thread the narrow pathways 
of the Bush, which (as Paddy would say) admit only 
6 one abreast.' 

STANZA XX. 

«. — Or ( city in the garden.' — It has struck the writer that 
this is the happiest ' multum in parvo ' definition of a 
tropic town's exterior that can w T ell be furnished. 

STANZA XXI. 

a. — Pron. < Can-ye ; ' a small tributary on the east bank 
of the Berbice, at whose confluence a strong fort is 
erected. 

b. — At the building of Carthage. Vid. iEneid. Lib. I. 

c. — Merchants, or storekeepers. 

STANZA XXII. 

a. — Or < drojekas,' — a sort of light covered car. 
b. — Police constables. 

STANZA XXIII. 

a. — Or Slave-market. 

STANZA XXIV. 

a. — I. e. — Smoking. 

b. — ' Quid non auri sacra fames ? ' — Virg. 

c. — I. e. — Mammon. 



114 



d. — Vendue-master, or auctioneer. 

e. — 'Trasher,' — one who divests the canes of weeds and 
withered leaves: this work is generally performed by 
the females. 

f. — It may he proper to apologize for introducing this 
common-place jest; which, however graphic, or 'to the 
life/ would have found no admission here, did it not 
serve still more clearly to exhibit the brutalizing effects 
of this inhuman traffic. Vryheid, or Vryheid-lust, (I 
forget which) is the name of a large and elegant coffee- 
estate, aback of New Amsterdam. The word signifies 
< liberty ; ' how apropos to a Dutch Slave-lair, the 
reader may determine. 

STANZA XXV. 

a. — Scotticism, — ' hand.' 

STANZA XXVII. 

a. — The term "just" as used in this place, as well as in 
one or two other passages of similar import, is to be un- 
derstood in a limited sense only, as an adaptation of the 
current sentiments of Nature : for it cannot but be ac- 
knowledged by every one who takes the Scripture for 
his ' rule of right, ' that, however just retaliation may 
appear where individuals have been goaded by such 
provocations as those already portrayed, the declaration 
of the Almighty must ever remain in force, " Vengeance 
is mine, I will repay." 

STANZA XXVIII. 

a. — This, or its equivalent ' working in chains,' was usually 
the doom to which the captive runaways were consigned 



115 

under the Dutch discipline, it being found impossible to 
keep such individuals from re-deserting, whenever 
opportunity offered. Even under the comparatively- 
mild rule of the English, the experiment was seldom 
more successful. I recollect when I was on ' PI : Her- 
stelling,' in the year 1832, a Negro named Jack, who 
had been a Bush-rover for upwards of a dozen years, 
returned to the estate, and voluntarily surrendered him- 
self: he was treated kindly, a pardon procured for him, 
and for a week or so things went on swimmingly ; but 
one morning when the gangs were called over, Jack 
was no where to be found ; he had fled, and with him 
some half-dozen men and women into the bargain. 
b. — Brandy, — of which the Bucks are passionately fond. 

SUPPLEMENT. 

a.—' Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas.* — 
6 That the soul be without knowledge, it is not good.' — 
Prov. XIX. 2. 

6. — Abundantly, both in ancient and modern times. 
What (in nine cases out often) but the Spirit of freedom 
striving against Oppression, has been the cause of the 
multitudinous revolutions recorded on the historian's 



DEMEA 



PART FOURTH. 



I. 



Hakk ! — Chanticleer's « obstreperous note 
From hundred throats hymns in the dawn ; 

Bright fiery streaks of glory float 
Along the eastern horizon ; — 

Hot zephyrs sweep the dewy sward, 

Procursive to their angry lord, 

And into distance hear away 

Awakened Nature's roundelay. 

Ceased is the crappo's hollow croak, 

Which all night long incessant broke 

Upon the ear ; — while, from the bough 
Of sappadiT or orange tree, 
Gay mocking-bird and kiskadee h 

Send forth their duteous matins now. 

Oh, glorious ! — grand beyond compare ! 

How breathes the soul the balmy air ! 



117 

What spell elastic works within ! 
What buoyant thoughts are revelling ! 
How bounds the spirit from the sod, 
And springs to meet its kindred God ! — 
Great Fount of being ! if at death 

The soul — escaped its laggard clay, 
May still approach these realms beneath 

Until the great and final Day 
Of audit, — hear my earnest prayer :— 
Oh ! let me to these climes repair, — 
otill haunt the scenes of early life, 
With store of choicest beauties rife ; 
Or on the morning's mellow ray 
Ride round the equatorial way, 
And quaff with all a Poet's glee 
Creation's richest ecstacy. 



II. 



" Third cock-crow, Allah ! — hip ! holloa ! "- 
So shouted bravely from below 
The Buckra's dormitory he 
Of errant turn, whom lately we 
Have introduced as newly from 
Bush-tour returned, hight Captain Tom. 
P Ya, — darjke, a mattee ; " — at the word, 

Out ' skip-and-roll ' from hammock high, 
Fenced round with net, h our brawny horde 

Of Dutchmen, six in company. 
Down stairs they amble, — to the hall 



118 

Where Indian hetman, c gun in hand, 
Awaits his Buckra peers' command 
To ' start ' ; — but first, the welcome call 
For ' snaps ' goes round : — a slave attends, 
And each to each the goblet sends. 
A rapid breakfast next succeeds, — 
Salt-fish and plantains — planter's fare, 
With sour fresh butter ; — on a chair 
Beside mine host, stands smoking hot 
The never-failing pepper-pot 4 ; — 
Then coffee, — and the Cuba weeds. e 
Two other groups, without the hall, 
Indian and Negro, (squatting each 
As far as may be out of reach 
Of other) with impetuous bang 
Beat foufou/ up : — but, hark ! the clang 
Of signal-bell : — 'tis hurry all ; — 
" Ho ! mingy e^-flote ; — hurra ! hurra ! " 
Bas Sambo bawls, " Away ! away ! " 

III. 

Tom's whistle too, both loud and clear, 

Its shrill note forces on the ear. 

Obedient to the triple call, 

Up start the busy breakfast band ; 
Some, fish and foufou-paste in hand, 
Huge morsels gorging ; — some in quaick a 
Their half-demolished viands take, 

To masticate at leisure ; — all 



119 

Prompt deference to the summons pay, 

And to the pier-head march away. 

Two corials manned with Blacks are there, 

A leash of Buckras each to bear ; 

Two others, stored with goodly load 

Of gipsy-baggage, h long and broad, 

Receive the train of Captain Tom. — 

His bark of state distinguished from 

Its fellow by a garland gay 

Of flaunting feathers — green and gray, 

Red, black and white combined, and fast 

Secured on top of bamboo mast. 



IV 



•' For Zorgen-vlyte a ! " — the sounding oar 

Yet once again is heard to ply — 
More loudly, glibly than before, 

Touched by the sp'rit of rivalry 
'Twixt Buck and Nigger-man ; — nor long 

At equal venture doth the race 
Of competition last ; the strong 

Broad-bottomed Indian craft give place 
Redressless to the sable crews 
That navigate the light canoes. 
Just then, as round Schumacher-head 
Our rival lot of vessels sped 
Their eager course, a stiffish breeze, 
Unbroke by intervening trees 
Or capping spires, swept full and strong 



120 

Against the huge ungainly sails 
Of Buck-arriere ; — once more the song 

Of daring, like funereal wails, 
Forth issues, as the impulse new, 
With lurch and splash, all grand to view, 
Propels them o'er the waters blue. 



" Hurra, for the Dutch boors ! 

Hurra ! — 
Hurra, for the blackamoors ! 

Hurra ! — 
Heave round to the wind, ho ! 

Tighten sail : 
Pull away with a will, boys ! 

Hurra! 
Our boaties they bend to the welcome gale, 
And our bamboo a-sails fill, boys ! 

Hurra ! " 



V. 



Muse ! steal a march ; — and, once again 
On Vanholst's place, a receive the train. — 
6 They come, they come ; ' — the rapid tide 
Impels them 'gainst the stelling side, 
And fast locks there ; — one punt alone 
Of Bucks, with racing ardour rife, 
(Fair comment on the turns of life) 
O'ershoots the mark, and farther down, 
Or rather up — in proper phrase 
To speak, obtains a mooring-place. 



121 



" Three cheers for luck ! " — and then they land 

En masse ; — a transient halt ensues, 
While Vanholst to his driver band, 
And puppet second-in ^-command — 
A stripling, o'er whose bud unblown 
Scarce twelve short summers yet have flown, 

Bequeaths his orders, and reviews 
The works in progress, — giving here 
And there an extra ' fiat ' — mere 
Redundancy of pride, and high- 
Spiced with unmeaning ribaldry ; 
A flood of wanton words, — as though 
To all around he needs must show 
Who rides the great horse, and how big 
Is Bas on Folly's whirligig, 

VI. 

Muse ! steal a march ; — yet once again 

To Pegasus give flowing rein; 

O'erleap dull speech : why should we dwell 

Assiduous on the ruffian steps 
Of that unhallowed band, — or tell 

How threaded they the mazy depth 
Of Bush ?— or how, by instinct led — 
As 'twere, upon the lovers' tread 
They a trod ? — so on the forest king 

The jackal waits, as fell as he ; 
On mangled carcass banqueting 

With zest as keen ; — so wait not we e 

M 



122 

Much quicker, pleasanter, and more 

Congenial to our taste 'twill be 
Their time of transit to pass o'er, 

And exercise the high and free 

Prerogative of Poesy — 
Through epic syllables ' to soar/ 
Unbound to Earth, from point to point , 

As ease or inclination suits, 
We flit along, and bid aroint 

All common-place, as rough recruits 
Not worth the having : — this explained, 
A way-mark in our tale is gained ; 
Three days of march are given back, — ■ 
As many nights of Bush bivouac. 

VIL 

At mid-day on the fourth, their scouts 

View from the broad savannah's marge. 
Some half-mile off, the Bush redoubts. 

Instant they pass the signal charge 
To ' halt,' and ' order ' ; — through the band 
Like magic flies the mute command ; 
Each one his dumb part well sustains, 
And stealthiness sepulchral reigns. 
Screened by the coppice, then and there, 
Beneath the leafy canopy 
Of towering palm or cotton-tree, a 
The Indian aids with savage air 
Their instruments of fight prepare. 



m 



Some load anew the horrid tubes 

Whose thunders from trr unerring eye 
Of Buck speak death ; some into cubes 

The bullets pare, more fearfully 
Their foes to mangle ; — some new-string 
The bow-stock, or from parrot's wing 
The well-selected feather strip, 
To poise in flight the arrow-tip. 

VIII 

Meantime, within a narrow glade, 

(If such it may be termed, formed by 
The trunk and branches half-decayed 
Of huge sankoko a — prostrate laid 
By Time's unsparing stroke,) in high 
And anxious council, noiselessly, 
The Buckras and Buck chief convene, 
To furbish up the coming scene. 
Long time they argue, — in a key 

Proportioned to the need, and less 
By words than tokens : none agree, — 

But each, as he is called t' express 
His sentiments, some novel plan 
Proposes for the sage Divan. 
One, shrinking from the coming fray — 
And half-repenting, votes delay, 
Cautious procedure, prudence due, 
More time the foeman's camp to view ; — 
A second deems the setting sun, 



126 

Sin, sorrow, death, of foulest dye, 

On Adam's hapless progeny, 
And universal ' good ' o'erhung 

With universal misery, — 
Here take thy stand ; and, while a tale 

Of horror I proceed to tell, 
Luxuriate in each frantic wail, 

And zest enjoy, befitting Hell. — 
Consonant with the foregoing plan 

Of Indian chief, with silent tread 
Our piebald corps turn rear to van, 

And make a movement retrograde — 
Or nearly so, diverging from 

Their former track some ten or score 

Degrees, — led on as heretofore 
By arch-complotter Captain Tom ; 
Nor halt they, till across their route 

A deep broad creek stands full in view : 
That barrier brings up hetman-scout, — 

Of need, his followers bring up too. 

XL 

One stifled ' whew ! ' — the troop obey, — 
And on the sward in grim array 
Recline at length. Rolls round the day ;- 
Time moves along — unvarying churl, 

Who, whatsoever genii — good 
Or ill, their blazonry unfurl, 

Still on, and on, in changeless mood 



127 

Pursues his course. And now the bright 
Broad Star of day, from vertic' height 
Elapsed, with blood -red fiery glare 
Obliquely greets the forest-lair. 
Just at that juncture — some short space 
Above the ambush, where a slip 
Of flowery land, with shelving tip 
Projecting creek- ward, fitting place 
Afforded for the healthful act 

Of bathing, an adventurous maid, 
Who from her swart compeers had strayed- 
Unconscious of the deathful fact 
Of Buck proximity, with an air 
'Twixt joy and fear— of covering bare, 
Stole forth to view. Upon the brink, 

Just where the wild flowers kiss the stream , 
A dallying while she stands, to drink 

In pleasure from the quivering gleam 
Of sunlight, as alternate, through 
The brushwood it — now shines, now hue 
Prismatic to the limpid wave 
Imparts, — and, as in act to lave 
Its mimic form, reversed displays 
Her image to the maiden's gaze ; — 

XII. 

Then with her foot the tepid ooze 

Sways sportively, as if to try 
Its temp'rature \ — then, throwing loose 



128 

Her cincture, a with a sudden cry, 
Half- stifled, — fear, delight, and shame, 
In one chaotic 'wildering flame 
Concentrated, — she plunges in. 

Muse ! — who art wont on themes of love 

And blandishment thy skill to prove, 
How wilt thou utterance give the sin 
Revolting, — which, if Truth's record 
(Stern chronicle of deeds abhorred) 
Be undisguised and open showed, 
Winds up our little episode ? 
She plunges ; — horror ! — (canst thou dare 

Unfold the sequel ?) — from the shore 
She dashes ;• — but, while yet mid-air 

Her graceful form is pendent o'er 
The rippled stream, a whizzing dart, 

Shot by accursed Buck, and to 

Its object with an aim too true 
Impelled, strikes through her throbbing heart. b 
One shriek, — but one, and on the wave 

She falls, a breathless bleeding corse, 

Cut off in prime by ruffian force : — 
Unseen, unheard, none near to save, — 
That oozy couch her sudden grave. 

XIII. 

Mark ! where — as though the troubled tide 
Were conscious of its murdered bride, 
And river-god in mute appeal 



129 

For vengeance would to Heaven reveal 
The horrid deed, yon potent whirl 
Upheaves the hapless forest-girl. 
High on the top, a minute's space, 
She floats,— her dark distorted face, 
Begrimed with weed, confronting Him 
Whose watchful eye is never dim, — 
And who, or soon or late, repays 
Mankind according to their ways. 
Fixed in her breast, too, bearing yet 
On end — though drooping now and wet, 
Its feathered tuft, — lo ! there the shaft 
Of polished reed which foully quaiFd 
Her heart's blood : — to the zenith, see, 
Its apex points triumphantly ; 
Now wheels, — as by supernal blight 

Struck suddenly ; — down through the flood 

Sinks the poor victim, whelmed in mud 
And water-tangle, to the bite 
Voracious of unsightly forms 

Consigned. — Shame on the miscreant, who 
Could raise his felon hand to smite 
A woman ! — worse confusion light 
On him — on them, whose wiser age, 
Though early taught from Sacred page, 
Gave sanction to the hellish deed, 
And crimes of kindred hue decreed. 

Ill-fated maid, — adieu ! adieu ! 
When Life with all its blatant storms 

Is past, — and Time has finished too 



130 

His course appointed, — then, if not 
Before, thy God — whose perfect thought 
' Doth all things well,' will in thy cause 
Make bare his arm, and on those laws 
Mysterious by which things below 
Are governed, get Him honour ; — now, 
Poor wretch, once more thy closing knell 
We utter in a long — Farewell. 

XIV. 

Fainter and fainter are the streaks 
Of gold, which from the Bang of day 
Among the rustling branches play : 
And now a dusky glimmer breaks 
Above the top-most foliage ; — now, 
That, too, has vanished, and the glow 
Of tropic sun-shine fiery bright 
Gives place to instantaneous night. 
The hour is come ; — and from the band 
Of Bucks two wily scouts are drawn ; 
One, he who slew with dastard hand 
The forest-girl ; — the other, spawn 
Of Captain Tom, hight Yannibrok, 
Choice scion of that worthy stock. 
Swift, and as cautious, as the deer, 
When flying from the huntsman's spear- 
Or fang of dog, the pair elite 
Pursue with well-accustomed feet 
Their route circuitous to the rear 



131 

Of Bushman's domicile, — to complete 
(As signified in former line) 
The leaguers' first and fell design. 
Ill speed attend their steps ! — meanwhile. 
To execute their purpose vile 
And principal, the allied corps — 
Exclusive of the Blacks, a score 
Or upwards strong, in gaunt array, 
Wend to the Outlaw's front their way. 

XV. 

Calliope ! — too faithful Muse, — 
Ere from thy golden lyre proceeds 
The coming strain, recording deeds 

Of dev'lishness — whose kindred hues 

Suit well the hour, — a little space 

Change thou the theme, and to yon bower 

Right odorous, where, with tropic grace, 

Gay tam'risks crown the Bushman's ' place/ 
Transport awhile thy magic power. — 

'Tis evening ; — from the setting sun 
The last red rays are streaming, and 

Impatient Darkness hath begun 
Already o'er that Eden land 

To fling his shadows ; — but, within 
That bower, on mossy couch reclined, 
Two lovers, whom commingling mind 

Has long made one, drink purely in 
Joy — bliss ineffable, a sea 

Of inexhaustive ecstacy. 



132 

Nor need is there that we should say 
Who are they : — that eventful day, 
Young Demba and his blushing bride 
Have at the Pagan altar's side, 
In presence of the outlawed throng, 
Fond vows exchanged ; — and, while along 
The flowery turf the jocund crew, 

In honour of the nuptial tie, 
Are sporting, our enamoured two 

Have softly from the public' eye 
Withdrawn, — within that fair alcove 
To banquet on the sweets of Love. 

XVI. 

Muse ! — wave thy wand : the mystic veil, 
Which ever screens the nuptial pair 
From curious eyes, remove, and there — 

Within that arbour, by the pale 

Expiring day-beams seen, reveal 
The votaries of Hymen. — Hist ! 

'Tis Yabba speaks : — with courteous zeal 
We forward press, and strive to list 

Her honied accents. — " Demba, — oh, 
My husband !— can this load of bliss 
Be real ? — from the dark abyss 

Of tyranny and ceaseless woe 

So sudden rescued, — can it be, 

My friend, that we indeed are free ? 

And shall we never — never more 



133 

Be parted ? " — " Never ; — from this hour, 

My Yabba dear, thy constant dower 
Shall happiness and peace be : — o'er 
Our sky serene no darksome cloud 
Shall float, thy sunny smiles to shroud ; 
But, on its blight and beauteous wing, 
Each day increasing joys shall bring, 
And life, and light, and love impart 
Fresh vigour to thy bounding heart." 
" Would it may prove so ! — Demba, not 

Less than thine own, my bosom fires 
With rapture at our altered lot ; — 

Hope not less ardent now inspires 
My grateful soul ; but, distant — home, 
My trembling thoughts will sometimes roam, 
And father — mother — " : " Yabba, mine ! 
Let not these bootless thoughts entwine 
Themselves around thy vitals : — we 
Will rescue them, — and to be free 
Compel them." " That can scarcely be ; — 
Or if it could, there is o'er all 

A dark foreboding, — something here 

I cannot quell — of inward fear, 
Which, though I do essay to call 
Sense to my aid, has, since that morn 
When to my troubled sight was borne 
In dreams his image, never ceased 
To haunt me ; and, though now released 
From woe and toil, — though on thy breast, 
My Demba, I securely rest — 



134 

And feel — and own that I am bless'd, 
Still, there it is — a spectral foe 
I cannot from my bosom throw. 
Go where I will — think as I may, — 
Across my path it still will stray, 

And grimly whisper — 'danger's near.' " 

XVII. 

" No more, my Yabba ; — be thy fears 

Well-based or not, this truth at least 
Is evident, — nor sighs nor tears 

Can scare from his appointed feast 
The monster Doom a : — what will come — will ; 
Meantime, to look at distant ill, 
Or doubtful, with despairing eyes, 

Each present good repelling, were 
Ungrateful, and not less unwise. 

This rule be ours, — (nor can we err 
In following it,) while yet we may, 
My fair one, 'let us live to-day.' 
Our fates are one : — whatever store 
Of ills bad jumbees yet may pour 
Upon us, — from my Yabba's side 

No power shall tear her Demba, — nor 
(Alike in life or death allied) 
Our mingled fortunes e'er divide." 
He said ; — and, with an added train 

Of blandishments and kisses, bore 

Meet witness to his passion. — For 



135 

A moment, on the "wildered brain 

Of Yabba the prophetic dream 
Itself depictured ; — but a tear, 
Quick starting from each radiant sphere. 
Swept off at once each lurking fear, 

And banished the ungracious theme. 

Now, all is rapture ; — once again 

Love gives impetuous bliss the rein : 

And, while the merry dancers by 

To bonja-minstrel revel high — 

And underneath the canopy 

Of spangled sky and cocoa- tree, 

Their hymeneal ditties sing, 

Responsive to its tuneful string, 

The night rolls on. — Aonian Maid ! 
Howe'er unwilling, lo ! once more 

Stern duty bids us seek the glade 
Where left we last, athirst for gore, 

That horrid troop, — with measured steps 

Emerging from the forest-depths. 

XVIII. 

Silent as death, still as the grave, — 
Enwrapt in pitchy gloom, save here 
And there a rayless stellar sphere 
Light bobbing on th' aerial wave, 
And striving as it were to brave 
Th' embattled mists, — the predal force 
Retrace their route, and in due course 



136 

Once more attain the spacious fields 

Where Bush to wide savannah yields. 

Awhile they tarry, — but not long : 

See, in the distance, yonder tongue 

Of flame arising ! — high in air 

It sudden shoots, with fiendlike glare ; 

And, lo ! as by the Evil One 

Himself enkindled, farther on 

A space, some half-mile to the right, 

A second greets the troubled sight. 

Quickly they spread ; — -from mound to mound 

The imps of conflagration bound, — 

Belching forth sparks : — and now the cries 

Of Bushmen, taken by surprise, 

Out-echoed by the piercing scream 

Of women, on the welkin teem. 

Hark to that wild and fearful wail, 

Loud booming on the fitful gale ! 

Now louder, — and yet louder still ; 

Shriller, — and yet anon more shrill, 

As truth appalling steals among 

The gradually-awakened throng : — 

Chorus of horror — blate and dire, 

Responsive to the crackling fire. 

XIX. 

Prompt at the sign, the grisly crew 
Obey their leader's stifled ' whew ! ' 
And march amain : — the sward they cross, 
And reach the circumjacent fosse — 



137 

All unobserved ; for none are there 

Meet tidings of the fact to bear ; 

And Bushman's sturdy guard, beguiled 

By yonder apparition wild, 

Is thither posting, with design 

Eight laudable and brave, to join 

His mattees in defensive stand 

Against the foe's assailing band. 

Woe worth the deed ! — as whilom from 
Troy's famous horse a murd'rous troop 
Descended on their wareless group 

Of victims — so, conductor Tom, 

Close followed by his ruffian train, 

Springs nimbly o'er the open drain. 

Onward they press, — compact and still, 

Their horrid purpose to fulfil, 

Through rice and canes ; — nor aught impedes 

The crisis of their savage deeds, — 

Nor sentinel nor scout is there 

Their fearful presence to declare, 

Save where the black-witch a — bird of Fate, 

Affrighted at th' intrusion late, 

Flits om'nous from her perch beneath 

The tangled shrubs, and sings of death. 

XX. 

Ah ! too prophetic ; — for, behold, 

Where, rushing from the Outlaw-town, 

Yon timid group of young and old 

Females and grandsires, — some weighed down 



138 

With infant-load, — some dragging on 
Diseased or crippled friend, — and one 
And all with lamentations shrill 
Rending the air — the pathway fill ! 
Awhile, along the open dam 

They stagger, — dubious where to go 

For shelter from assailing foe : 
And now, — as on defenceless lamb 
The jaguar pounces — with a yell 
Of fiendish triumph, worthy Hell, 
The corps of fierce invaders spring 
Upon their victims. — Shall I sing — 
Or hide the sequel ? — be it told ; 
And let their horrid deeds, enrolled 
On Infamy's ensanguined scroll, 
Tell to the world what fearful dole 
Was meted to the swarthy crew 
Ere Britain — to her tenets true, 

Tore from their limbs Oppression's chain, 
And reared aloft the banner ' blue ' « 

Of Freedom's mild auspicious reign. 

XXL 

Bright gleams in air the polished steel, 
As, wielded by the Buckras bold, 

Their cutlasses with bloody zeal 
Deal gashes among young and old. 

" Down with the wretches ! " — such the cry 
That issues from the felon lip 



139 

Of Vanholst; — nor defence is nigh, 

To save them from his vengeful grip. 
In vain for grace they prostrate sue, — 
Destruction waits the unarmed crew ; 
Nor grace is shewn, — nor quarter given, — 
But every stroke full tilt is driven. 
' Pram ! pram ! ' the muskets ;— at each shock, 
Fresh carcasses the green-sward stock : — 
Babes from their wretched mothers— see ! 
Are torn away remorselessly, 
And, slashed mayhap with many a wound, 
Dashed headlong on the glutted ground. 
But who is she, — that maiden fair, 
Whose hands are clasped in mute despair, — 
Yet kneeling, and with upturned eye 
Heaven's aid imploring silently ? 
Ah ! spectral vision, — dream too true, — 
Omen of ill, of deadliest hue : 
See ! see ! — 'tis Yabba ; from her side 

The purple life-drop trickles down, — 
For she is wounded ; — and the pride 

Of Demba's youthful heart must crown 
(Despite her charms, and promise bright) 
The horrors of that fatal night. 

XXII. 

Quick as the eagle, soaring high, 

Through clouds and rolling mists discerns 
His quarry, — or the practised eye 



140 

Of bandit through the mazy turns 

And windings of his secret lair 

Makes out the traveller, — Vanholst there 
Espies his game ; and, with a cry 
Or yell of thrilling blasph'my — such 
As 'frighted Muse could never clutch, 
Grasps the poor wanderer — on the grass 
Now sinking 'mid the gory mass, 
And, fainting, at the foot of foe 
Just in the act of falling low. 
Tyrant ! exult not ; — from thy pouch 

Draw not those steely handcuffs ; — thou 
Shalt never to thy hated couch 

That noble damsel force ; — for now 
Thy blood-red star, ascendant long, 
Is falling — falling, — and the throng 
Of circling fiends, that to this hour 
Have made thy heart their Eden bower, 
Nerved with unyielding strength thine arm, 
And swathed (as 'twere) with hellish charm 
Thy frame against impending harm, 
Forsake thee ; — lo ! thine hour is come ; 
And thou, bad man, must now succumb 
(As falls beneath the axe — the oak) 
To righteous Heaven's avenging stroke. 

XXIII. 

Hark ! in the front, a war-whoop wild 

Rides horrent o'er the mingled din 
Of shrieks, and groans, and shouts. — Beguiled 



141 

At first, — and lured from wife and child 

By yonder conflagration, — (in 
Campaigning language, glibly styled 
A clever ruse or ruse-de-guerre,) 
The maddened Bushmen haste to share 
The horrors of the deathful strife, 
And snatch from doom each valued life. 
For that heart- stirring boon, alas ! 
For that conjugal — filial act, 
For that parental deed, — in fact, 
In many a case, which on the grass 
Lies drenched with gore — the butt of Fate 
And Buckra's felon wrath, — too late ; 
But not for vengeance : — in the van, 
See ! Demba, — of the outlawed clan 
First of the foremost : first to spy — 
With all the lover's lightning eye, 
How fares his Yabba. Poised in air, 

His trusty cutlass flashes now ; 
Then — with a shout in which despair 

Competes with phrenzied triumph, (low 
As o'er his prize the tyrant bends, 
With purpose vile as horrible — 
His savage soul befitting well, 
Her gentle wrists to manacle,) 
On Vanholst's skull that blade descends. 

XXIV. 

Nor needs a second : — from his grasp 
The yet uncinctured fetters drop. 



142 

One plunge for life, — one giant gasp,— 

One wild instinctive throe, to stop 
(Alas, how vain !) the chilly hand 

Of Death, — and on th' ensanguined sward, 
Amid that slaughtered victim-band, 
The tyrant lies — a ghastly corse, 
Cut off by retributive force ; 

For power abused, — for deeds abhorred, 

Paid home at last with meet reward. 
" So perish white man ! " — but that feat 

Triumphant on his cruel foe 

Unscathed doth he achieve ? — ah ! no : — 
* Pram ! pram ! ' — again the Indians greet 
The Outlaw with a deathful storm 
Of musketry and arrows. Form 
On form is seen to bite the ground, — 
To sleep their long last sleep profound ; 
And, 'mongst the rest, a bullet from 
The rifle of commander Tom 
Lays victor Demba by the side 
Of his expiring bleeding bride ; — 

Not killed outright, but wounded sore ; 
A short reprieve, by Fate supplied, 
Ere yet the jumbee« legions guide 

His spirit to the Stygeian shore. 

XXV. 

On rush the Outlaws ; — while a cry 

Of vengeance yet more deep and dire 
From their dark ranks ascends on high, 



143 

As Demba falls : — yon blazing pyre 
Now lights them on, and full to view 
Displays the murd'rous Buckra-crew, — 
Their strength, their weakness too ; — and ere 

That party can again re -load 

Their rifles, — as when overflowed 
By lava from volcano near, 
Pompeii and her consort « fell — 

Engulphed in sudden ruin, — so, 
Affrighted by the desperate yell 

And vigorous onset of the foe, 
The Bucks throw down their arms, and flee. 
In vain the white men — 'shamed to see 
Such coward act, and justly too 
Alarmed for the result, — with true 
Dutch doggedness and phlegm essay 
To bar the Bushmen's farther way, 
And rally their allies ; — in vain : 
Like hurricane along the plain 
Impetuous sweeping, far and wide, 
Rolls down the dam that human tide ; 
Till, broke by the resistless power, 
They too, in that disastrous hour, 
Are fain to seek by rapid flight 
Deliv'rance from the foeman's might. 

XXVI. 

What fortune — good or ill, throughout 
Their course attends that rabble-rout, — 
How fare those wretches,— whether some, 



144 

Or all, or none, beneath the edge 
Of angry Outlaw's steel succumb, — 

Or whether, as they gain the ledge 
Where, gaunt and stately, like a row 
Of spectres in embattled show, 
The Bush-range skirts the plain, — or few 
Or many 'scape the vengeance due 
To each and all, — exhausted Muse 

Need not unfold : — enough of blood 
And havoc hath her strain diffuse 

Already treated. Let that flood 
Of wrath and murd'rous strife go by ; 

And turn we now where, on the ground, 

Each bosom gored with fearful wound, 
'Midst slaughtered friends — on point to die, 
Poor Demba and his Yabba lie. 

XXVII. 

Ah, luckless pair ! — woe's me — how soon 

Are all your radiant hopes o'erthrown ! — 
Long ere attained — Life's glowing noon, — 

By adverse Fate cast rudely down, 
Your meteor star of promise bright 
Sinks into everlasting night. 
See ! where around the dying girl 

Her faithful lover feebly twines 
His nerveless arm : — nor can the whirl 

Of death — though on her face its lines 
Are deeply stamped, one jot destroy 



145 

Of that instinctive hallowed joy 
Which ever, whether weal or woe 

Was dom'nant, thrill'd her gentle breast 
When Demba with impassioned throe 

The flame that lit his soul confessed. 
Gasping for utterance, — for awhile, 

The agitated youth in vain 
Essayed to speak : a ghastly smile, 

(If such it might be termed,) which pain 
And sorrow mixed with pleasure seemed 
Confus'dly to betoken, gleamed 
Upon his visage : — making then 

A desperate effort — feeble flesh 

To triumph over, ere the mesh 
Of death fast thickening should in ten- 
Fold lassitude his sinking frame 
Envelop, — upon Yabba's name 
Oft calling first, he thus addressed 
His bleeding bride : — " O day unblessed ! — 
O Yabba ! — O prophetic dream — 

Too soon accomplished ! — little thought 
Thy Demba, with what direful team 

Of incidents that dream was fraught, 
When, (scarce as yet one wretched hour 
Gone by,) as in yon blissful bower 
We lay, I chid thy fears, and strove 
To drown them in oblivious love." 
He said ; — but, ere his faltering tongue 

Could further vent his feelings, groans, 
Convulsively escaping, flung 



146 

A barrier on his speech, — and tones 
Inaudibly expressed proclaim 
The pangs he lacks the power to name. 

XXVIII. 

To him — while o'er her languid eye 
The film of death hangs heavily, 

His faithful Yabba : — u Husband — friend — 
O Demba ! — let not thoughts of ill 

Now harrow up our peaceful end 
With vain repinings. — 'Tis His will ; 

And didst not thou say — ' we must bend ? ' ' 
She paused ; — and, with the fond rebuke, 

A glance so piercing — full of fire 
Seraphic, from each glistening nook 
Shot forth, that, 'neath its quickening charm, 
Her lover felt his bosom warm, — 

Each murmuring thought, each wild desire 

For lengthened life, at once expire. 
And mellowing resignation roll 
In kindred streams across his soul. 
One kiss from off that pallid cheek — 

Faint, yet impassioned, — one embrace — 
Rife with ecstatic spell, though weak, — 

One long-drawn sigh, — and Yabba's race 
Is nearly run : — yet, once again, 
Ere Fate unpitying bids her drain 
The lethal cup — her quivering voice 

Thus on her Demba's listening ear 

Falls faintly : — " Demba ! death is near ; 



147 

I feel him ; — but we will rejoice. 

Few have our days been ; — toil and woe 

Has been our portion here below : 

But in those starry grottoes, where 

We go, no Bas oppresses ; — there, 

At last, poor Negro Slave shall be 

From toil and sorrow ever free. 

Come then, my Demba ; — for our flight 

To fresher bowers, be ready dight : — 

Awhile we part ; — I go before : — 

We meet above, — to part no more." 

" I come, my Yabba ! " — with the word, 
Her lover to his throbbing breast 
The dying girl more closely pressed : — 

" Farewell ! " — " Farewell ! " — Nor long deferred 

The spectral king his office : — 

XXIX. 

See! 



He lifts his dart to set her free : — 
From her warm heart the crimson tide 

One moment with accustomed spell 
Bounds through her veins ; — Love's eddies glide 

With impetus electrical 
Along her frame ; — athwart her now 

Fast-glazing eye a lightning ray 
Of passion shoots, — then o'er her brow 

The undulating flashes play. 
On her fond lips a placid smile 



148 

Of heavenly rapture hangs awhile ; 
Then, with her last expiring breath 
Faint lisping " Demba ! " — pillowed on 
His bosom — Nature's conflict done — 
She gently bows her head in death. 
So dies the Taper, — when, at night, 

In Attic chamber, o'er the page 
Of sleep-surprised Parnassean wight 
It throws its last emblazoned gage 
Of servitude, — a sudden glow 
Transcendent, then pitch-darkness : — so, 
Where Boreas holds his dreary reign, 
And banquets Nox, — the while her train 
Throng through his halls, opposing Day 
By proxy a shines, and o'er the gloom 
A halo flings : — so, when the Tomb 
Has burst its barriers, — and the lay 
Of dread Archangel to its core 
Old Earth convulses, — 'mid the roar 
Of warring elements — while Sun, 
And Moon, and Stars, (their office done) 
Dissolve, — a wreath of ' living fire' h 
Shall round our shattered globe aspire, — 
Swift through the crackling void be hurled, 
And circumvest a dying world. 

XXX. 

She dies : — from pain and sorrow free, 
She quits this vale of misery, 
And flutters to that happy shore 



149 

Where grief and wrong intrude no more. 
She dies : — and does her faithful spouse — 

The wounded Demba, long survive ? 
Ah ! no ; — e'en while his Yabba bows 

In death, the grisly shades arrive — 
Whose duty 'tis his soul to waft 
Where Lethe yields th' oblivious draught, 
And Jumbee — throned in regal state, 
The sceptre wields of human fate. 
A momentary scowl — no more, 

Of hate and angry triumph mixed, 
Darts from his eye, as — rolled in gore, 
His fallen foe it passes o'er ; — 

Then, on his bride intently fixed, 
His filmy orbs drink purely in 

Ecstatic visions : — to her lip 

Then bending down, as fain to sip — 
E'en though in death, that ravishing 
And soul-entrancing honied bliss, 
So oft their mutual gage — the kiss, 
The spectre-monarch to his heart 
Strikes home the aconitic dart. 
From this bad world — where Wrong o'er Right 
Prevails, his spirit takes its flight, — 
To seek'in that celestial bourne 
Where Ethiop's sons and daughters mourn 
No more, and 111 can never rise, 
Freedom and Yabba — Paradise. 



150 

Otm Tale is done : — but ere the gray 
Goose-feather, which for many a day 

Hath hieroglyphed the Muse's scroll, 
Drop from our grasp, — one parting word, 
In Mercy's holy cause preferred, 

She now would venture. Of the dole 
With which erstwhile the bestial lot 
Of Negro-man was brimful, nought 
Need here be said : — suffice it, what 
Already in our song has been 

Urged on the patriot mind ; for it 
Alone with patriotic sheen 

Is truly dight, on which is writ 
In characters that cannot lie, 
4 Foe, to the death, of Slavery.' 
That theme, — Oppression's galling chain, 

The Negro's wrongs, o'erpowering woe, 

By abler pens has long ago 
Been urged, — nor, happ'ly, urged in vain. 
His wrongs a mighty nation's wrath 
Have roused ; and cheerly on his path 
Rays from Britannia's segis bright 
Diffuse their manumitting light ; 
While, nurtured by their genial heat, 

Around the now-protected spot 

Where stands his dear and native cot, 

Love, Joy, Repose, expanding Hope, 

And Self-respect their blossoms ope, — 
Perennial posies, rich as sweet, 
Contributing : — but though the change 



151 

Be glorious, — though our eyeballs range 
With sympathising gladness o'er 
Hesperia's offspring — slaves no more, — 
Though, proudly, for the noble boon, 
To Britain's praise our lyre we tune, — 
'Tis not sufficient : — from our hands 
Sheer equity this much demands ; — 
For past injustice, scorn, and hate, 
A retribution meet — though late. 
Nor yet enough, that through the world 

Her philanthropic thunders be 
On Tyranny and Thraldom hurled, 

Till all mankind — in body free, 
Her praise re-echo : — not enough, 

That, yielding to her mystic arts 
Of moral chemistry, the rough 

Mis-shapen mind from grosser parts 
Be purged, — or with the polished crest 
Of social currency impressed : — 
Bless'd as we are, — supremely bless'd 
Above the nations, far and near, 

With Gospel Knowledge, — He, who rules 
Creation, — who hath deigned to rear 
Redemption's blood-stained banner here 

Pre-eminent, and men as tools 
Or agents in the wond'rous scheme 
Of Love employs, — us from our dream 
Of selfish sloth arouses, — us 

Invokes — impels, by every tie 
That binds us to our interests, thus 



152 

To carry out his purpose High 
Through all the world; — the ' Sinner's Friend' 
To every child of woe to send, — 
To every dark and Pagan heart 
That ' knowledge ' we possess impart,— 
Nor dare relax, till each and all 
Are freed from Satan's damning thrall. 
That spell dissolved, — that slavish yoke 
(Primeval cause of sorrow) broke ; 
Soul from its pond'rous shackles freed, — 
Angelic bands shall bless the deed, — 
And 'good' in all its varied kinds, 
Thence emanate ; — while holy minds 
Expanding, as the germ of Grace 
Finds in them more congenial place, 
Shall with proportioned vigour ply 
Their energies ; — to the kindling eye 
Of angels — as of men, display 
The excellence of ' Wisdom's way,' — 
And each to each devoutly prove — 

Within his own and proper sphere, 

How weak a principle is Fear, 
How adequate and strong is Love. 
No Paradise of Pagan mould 

Shall o'er the dying Ethiop then 
Its glimmer cast : — Truth shall unfold 

Her glories ; — and the sons of men, 
Transformed to Christians, from this clay 
Shall to the realms of endless day 
Ascend triumphant. — Friends of Truth — 



153 

Essential truth, the Gospel, — ye, 
Whose bosoms with exalted ruth 

Hare throbbed to set the captive free, — 
Whose zeal and care fraternal still 
His new-born rights would guard from ill, — 
Whose strain is im Mercy, " — Britons ! to 
This a//-including blissful end 
Let every giant effort tend ; — 
For this — ' his special heaven-born right,' 
Strain every nerve, — your powers unite : — 
Here, to the shackled victim shew 

Mercy most pure ; — and while you rend 
From off his squalid limbs the chain, 
Indicative of Terror's reign, — 
Oh ! let a mightier throe impel 

The generous deed ; — from darkness, sin, 
And Hell a deathless soul to win, 
And raise to Glory : — to dispel 
Satanic night, — and hasten on 
The long-desired millennial dawn, 
When Sin shall cease, and iron Thrall 
No more the sickening soul appal ; 
But endless praise, and holy joy, 
Shall every heart and tongue employ, — 
And Christ, our King, the Guardian be 
Of Man's fair birth-right — Liberty. 



NOTES 



PART FOURTH. 



STANZA I. 

a. — " Bright Chanticleer proclaims the dawn." 

Hunting Song. 
It is customary in the West-Indies to divide the latter 
part of the night into first, second, and third cock-crow ; 
equivalent to 1, 3 and 5 o'clock, or thereabout. 
b. — So called from its note. 

STANZA II. 

a. — Pron : * daur-ik-ye,' directly. 

b. — Mosquito-netting. 

c. — Headman, or chief. 

d. — This truly indigenous and delicious preparation is 
literally, a hash, — consisting of meat, a quantity of hot 
peppers, (as the name imports,) and the prepared juice 
of the cassada root. It is usually served up in a huge 
three-legged crock, and placed — not on the table, but 
on a high chair, by the side of the officiating host. 

e. — Tobacco. 

f. — Boiled plantains pounded into a paste ; the favourite 
food of the Negroes, and of the Bucks too — when they 
can get it. 

g. — ' Water-wash,' — or i the tide is beginning to flow.' 



155 

STANZA III. 

a. — A long bottle-shaped basket, made of split bamboo; 

chiefly used by the Negroes, for the purposes mentioned 

in the text. 
b. — Such as wives, children, tent-poles and covering, 

blankets, hammocks, pots, quaicks, and other gear. 

STANZA IV. 

a, — The presumed name of Vanholst's ( management,' — 
or, plantation of which he was manager. 

BUCK CHORUS. 

a. — Similar in construction to those of the Chinese junks ; 
or, matting of split bamboo neatly interwoven. 

STANZA V. 

a. — In West-Indian phraseology, 'place 9 is a common 
substitute for i plantation ■ or ' place of residence/ 

b. — To wit, his overseer ; — being, most probably, a coloured 
son, born on the Estate. 

STANZA VI. 

a. — I. e. The Bucks. — Unerring sagacity in tracking 
their enemies, forms a prominent trait in the character 
of the Savage. In this respect, however, as well as in 
many others, perhaps the South-American Indians are 
excelled by their brethren of the North. 

STANZA VII. 

a. — The silk cotton-tree, — one of the largest, if not the 
largest, of the Guiana forest- tribe. 



156 
STANZA VIII. 

«.~An umbrageous, short-lived tree, somewhat resemb- 
ling the beech; and planted on the generality of the 
coffee estates in regular groves, for the purpose of pro- 
tecting that delicate shrub from the direct rays of the 
sun. 

b. — Vid. Note a to Stanza V. 

c. — 6 Not approved of. ' 

STANZA IX. 

a. — This of course would be an Indian forester's theory of 
the setting sun. 

STANZA XII. 

a. — Or 'lap,' — a girdle of cloth, worn round the loins; 

and, among the women and young Creoles, frequently 

ornamented with small beads. 
b. — In one of these Bush expeditions, a circumstance 

nearly akin to the foregoing, actually occurred. 

STANZA XVII. 

a. — As a matter of course, — the Negro entertains those 
vague and undefinable notions of fatality common to 
almost all uncultivated minds. 

STANZA XIX. 

a. — The ' black-witch ' is about the size and colour of an 
English blackbird, and is usually met with in small 
coveys, — deriving its pre-nomen from the natural cause 
just mentioned, and its co^-nomen from the super- 
natural properties with which the superstition of the 
Negroes has invested it. 



157 

STANZA XX. 

a. — " For blue are the heavens above, 

And blue is the wide-rolling sea ; 
And blue, melting blue, are those eyes which we love,-— 
Oh ! blue is the colour for me." 

Conservative Song. 

STANZA XXIV. 

a. — Spectres, whose special office it is, like the Mercury 
of the ancients, to convoy the souls of deceased persons 
into the Negro Pluto's domain. 

STANZA XXV. 

a. — Herculaneum. 

STANZA XXIX. 

a. — The Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights. 

b. — Fire — though destined to be employed in the destruc- 
tion of the World, may, nevertheless, under its milder 
and more classic appellation ' caloric, ' be very fairly 
considered as the mundane soul; which — in order to 
bear out our simile, is here represented as in the act of 
disjunction from the ' mortal remains ' with which it 
had been so long and essentially connected. 



FINIS. 



T. STRATFORD, PRINTER, WORCESTER. 



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